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Ivy had worried about seasickness before boarding Queen Ève’s ship; to her pleasant surprise, she found being on the water not unlike riding a wyvern. Her legs held solid beneath her despite the vessel’s swaying, the salty breeze put a pleasant wave in her hair, and the wide stretch of gentle swells surrounding them proved a calming sight. Fortunate, considering that another ailment plagued her tonight: insomnia.
Insomnia, along with fresh grief, and a dash of looming dread—all things that Ivy grew more and more used to as their fight raged on. The flames of Florra Port scorched her memory, frantic screams of escaping villagers echoing in her ears. She’d held steady through it all, her cool head granting the resolve she’d needed to strike down her foes—even the Corrupted who’d dared to imitate her late father. If Ivy was being honest, there was more anger than sadness in her heart. Not that any of it showed on her face, of course.
Perhaps it was thanks to the recent terror replaying so vividly in her head that the sound of creaky footsteps on the wood failed to faze her. It helped that she recognized the sound, a particular sturdy gait and the clink of armor. She braced for a deep, measured voice, one far more soothing than it had any right to be.
“Princess Ivy?”
Not the first time he’d snuck up on her at such a late hour. At least she managed not to leap in surprise this time.
She twisted away from the railing, making out the tall figure approaching. “Good evening, Prince Diamant,” she greeted. “Difficulties sleeping, tonight?”
A single lantern glowed against the darkness, illuminating Diamant’s face just enough for Ivy to catch a soft smile. “I could ask you the same thing. Mind if I join you?”
Ivy hummed in approval, directing her gaze back to the water, resting her elbows on the dark wood as Diamant stopped beside her. There was something refreshing about having him nearby, and a welcome quiet between them. While Ivy didn’t dislike Alfred and Timerra’s talkative nature, she wasn’t sure she had the energy for a conversation with their usual levels of chipperness. No, of all the people in the army, Diamant was—for better or worse—the ideal person to while away her sleepless hours with. She might even hazard to say she preferred him to complete solitude.
“I’m sorry about Florra Port,” he said, his voice hushed—a strange and intriguing contrast to his usual clear, self-assured manner.
Ivy furrowed her brow, casting him a questioning look. Crimson eyes met hers—a harsh color, under normal circumstances, but at the moment they were softened by nightfall and a certain warmth radiating from him. “My condolences, I mean. I know that battle was difficult for you.”
“It was difficult for everyone,” Ivy replied. Her lips twitched as she resisted a frown, her jaw stiffening. “Our battles will only grow more difficult from here on out, too. Who knows what lies in store for us at the end of this voyage…”
Her words trailed off, swallowed by the wind as her gaze drifted back to the sea. The water appeared darker and more haunting than before, as though overtaken by the shadows of great leviathans. Her homeland wasn’t even a distant speck on the horizon yet, but Ivy could swear a sudden Elusian chill had taken hold of the air.
“Forgive me for asking, Princess Ivy, but… are you afraid?”
Diamant’s question shook her. Yes, her mind screamed through a cloud of anxiety—it took every last shred of her willpower not to run. It wasn’t like her bed in the depths of the ship’s hull would be any less frightening, with its unfamiliar corners and suffocating size. Ivy was far too accustomed to this sense of helplessness, of being trapped, but she was determined to maintain her composure in front of Diamant. He inspired her to stay strong, in a way.
“I’ve spent so much of my life afraid,” she murmured, unthinking. “I’m afraid now, too.” Her nails dug into the railing. “I wish…” A deep exhale rushed from her lips. “I wish I didn’t live in such a terrifying world. In such terrifying times.”
The words were half-true. Ivy couldn’t deny her joy at being accepted by the Divine Dragon, at the places she’d already seen and the people she’d met. But had the cost been too great? Even now, sailing home, she had no clue what new trial awaited her. In the wake of her loss, it grew more and more difficult to be grateful for what she’d gained.
“You know, Princess Ivy,” Diamant started—how long had she been lost in her thoughts? “When we first met, I don’t think you would have shared that with me.”
She blinked, resisting her immediate instinct to laugh of all things. “When we first met, Prince Diamant, I seem to recall your sword was raised against me.”
He raised his eyebrows, his voice light. “Well, that tends to happen when crown princesses from enemy countries drop into my castle and demand I hand over precious family heirlooms.”
A chuckle spilled from her lips. “I never said I didn’t deserve it…”
In spite of the playful smirk now painted across her face—or the rather disarming smile on his—she couldn’t help wondering what she deserved at this point. Had she truly earned the forgiveness shown to her by the Divine Dragon, by Diamant? The latter still shocked her, considering everything that had happened. How had they become so comfortable standing beside each other, on the battlefield or otherwise? It was nothing short of a miracle.
But then again… maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it helped that Diamant was so kind, a picture-perfect leader, fully ready to make amends and foster peace. Maybe Ivy was simply being pragmatic, preparing herself for what would be a long diplomatic relationship. Maybe that strange warmth in her chest was a glowing anticipation—a hope, even—for a prosperous future between their nations.
Yes, that warmth was strictly professional. She was sure of it.
Any further thoughts of warmth were rudely interrupted by a swift and sudden gust of frigid wind, sweeping past with such force that Ivy had to stifle a cry. “Goodness,” Diamant hissed, raising an arm in a futile attempt to shield himself. His hair fluttered as the chill cut through it, eyes shutting tight—it was oddly endearing. “We must be getting closer to our destination,” he bit out, his mouth twisted into a frown.
Laughter rumbled in her chest before she could stop it. “Not a fan of Elusia’s welcoming method, Prince Diamant?” she teased. “I didn’t expect you to be so affected by the weather.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her, dropping his hand even as a shiver shook his shoulders. “Just taken by surprise. I suppose you’re used to it.”
Perhaps, in some way. In truth, a number of conflicting emotions hit her as a familiar numbing sensation seeded goosebumps along her skin. She wasn’t ready to address any of them. “That’s one way to put it. Here.” She oriented herself toward him, raising her hands, palms hovering close together. “I’ll whip something up to stave off the cold.”
“Whip something up…?”
Her gaze flicked up to meet his, noting the slightest apprehension there. “Just a little spell—a rather common one in Elusia, based on fire magic. Harmless, though.”
“Oh…”
An uncharacteristic unease undercut his tone. “Is something the matter, Prince Diamant?”
“No, I…”
“I really would like to help,” Ivy cut in, embarrassed by the nerves now tensing her face. She’d been fine moments ago, so why—? “You’re always—always so considerate, and—”
The change in Diamant’s demeanor was immediate, like flipping a switch. “Please, don’t mind me,” he said, reverting to his usual calm reassurance. “I would love your help, Princess Ivy. Go ahead.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath to prepare for casting. The spell came easily to her, as magic always had—she didn’t even have to perform the full incantation. Pleasant warmth radiated from a dim orb manifesting between her hands—pale like the moon, but hot like the sun.
“Better?” she asked, inching forward.
“Yes,” Diamant said, strangely breathless. He eyed the ball of light with a combination of wariness and fascination. “That’s… that’s brilliant. You’re quite talented.”
Ivy shook her head, embarrassed. “Like I said, most beginner mages can pull this one off. It’s nothing to write home about.”
“For me, it is.” He raised his hands to hover beside hers, his fingers fluttering with a curious hesitance, almost delicate. His whole body appeared softer, huddling around the heat source. “I struggle with magic, myself,” he confessed, swallowing. “It’s a constant source of frustration, actually.”
An unsurprising revelation, but it was curious to hear him say it. “I… I see,” she replied, downplaying her reaction. “I suppose you make up for it by being good at just about everything else, though.”
“Princess Ivy…”
Dammit. She’d said too much. “Apologies. I’m not trying to flatter you. It must be exhausting, being surrounded by such lofty expectations all the time.”
“I’m happy to find someone else who understands the experience,” he offered with a wry hum. “Though I must admit, a compliment from you… It’s not something I ever expected. I like it.”
Then there was silence—Ivy’s words dried up on her tongue, her head swimming as she processed his comment. She scolded herself for it—her court training should have kicked in to continue the conversation, steered it in a direction that wasn’t so confusing. Instead, she found herself standing awkwardly, unable to talk. No, it was more that she didn’t want to talk—observing was more up her alley. Diamant’s focus landed on her hands—or rather, what was between them, drawn to the light like a moth. Ivy tried to read his expression—tried to discern what he was thinking, to assess his tells like her mother would have urged her to do.
Know your enemy had been the former queen’s mantra. Ivy had learned very quickly that her mother applied the word enemy to just about anyone.
But Diamant wasn’t her enemy, despite everything she’d been taught. After all, she would never let an enemy this far into her personal space—
He took a small step forward, and Ivy flinched at the proximity.
“Ah,” she breathed, eyes scanning the length of him before turning away. Never take your eyes off a threat—how many lessons would she be flouting tonight? “Is it—is it alright for us to stand so close?” she squeaked, cursing her hesitance.
“Oh. I’d barely even noticed,” Diamant said, in that matter-of-fact way of his, devoid of any treachery. When Ivy hazarded a glance back at him, though, he appeared uncertain, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Um…”
“Forgive me,” she said, the orb in her hands flickering. She managed to hold it together.
“No, no, it’s fine. If you move now, I’ll end up cold. So…”
Ivy had to resist a groan. He was making this far too difficult. Or perhaps that was her own doing. “R-right,” she mumbled. “I’ll stay right here until you’re ready to go to bed, then.”
“That… could be a while,” Diamant sighed, craning his neck up towards the sky. “The stars look so beautiful out here, I can’t help staring.” His gaze lingered above them, tracing a constellation or two before drifting back down. There was another smile on his face, his cheeks washed in soft shadows by her spell. There might have even been a twinkle of starlight reflecting in his eyes. “Don’t worry. If you grow tired, I can always carry you back to your room.”
Her stomach flipped. “Prince Diamant,” she managed through gritted teeth, “this is how rumors start…”
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, his tone still lighthearted. “That slipped out. I think…” He directed his view out toward the water this time, his hands dropping and retreating behind his back. “It’s gotten quite easy for me to let my guard down around you.”
Ivy stared ahead, wordless. Letting his guard down? In spite of everything that had happened? In spite of everything she’d done? But he said it with such sincerity that even her self-doubt wavered. She couldn’t help it—right now, she was comfortable. The surrounding darkness was no longer full of lurking monsters populated by her overactive imagination; whatever threat waited for them in Elusia could keep on waiting. For now, Ivy was glad that her biggest problem was a prince who was too unwittingly forward for his own good.
“Well the offer stands, regardless,” Diamant murmured, just to make the point stick harder.
She sighed, unable to do anything but accept him at face value. It was all too much to reckon with—the late hour had to be catching up to her. “I’m feeling exhausted already,” she said with a smile.
On the bright side, her insomnia wouldn’t be a problem anymore.