Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

here.” His aunt was sad but not broken. Annika never worried that she’d fling herself over the side of the ship. “She’s very proud of you. I wasn’t aboard more than a week when she showed me a photograph.”
    “She says she doesn’t leave Phatéon .”
    “It’s true. If she needs anything, though, she doesn’t hesitate to ask for it. Elena—the second mate—and I often bring back items for her in the port cities.” Annika pursed her lips. “Except she doesn’t let me pick out her ready-made dresses. She relies on Elena for that.”
    His gaze returned to Annika’s. “What would you pick for her?”
    “A gown of deepest green. She once told me that she enjoys flying over the forests better than the water—she likes looking outover the trees. A damask, I think. It would be heavy and warm, which is always welcome on the deck of an airship, and the fabric has such a lovely texture when you run your hands over it. I think such a gown would make her happy just to wear it. She wouldn’t need the bows or the lace—but of course, that is what she fears I’d bring her.”
    “Do they make you happy?”
    “Oh, yes. They’re so pretty, aren’t they? If possible, I would wear nothing but a bow every day—especially if it was silk. Nothing compares to silk.” She’d never felt anything like it before coming to the New World…but they weren’t talking about her. She looked to Lucia again. “A year ago, Phatéon carried a passenger who fancied her—another physician, he was. She took him to her bed, but though he proposed a marriage, she wouldn’t leave with him. She was even more melancholy for a while after that. I’m not sure if she regretted her refusal, or if she was sorry that he hadn’t been your uncle.”
    Perhaps it had been a combination. For as long as Annika had been alive, her mother, Frida, had suffered from similar regret and grief—even though her lover still lived, and only a stone’s throw from their home. That they’d shared a fierce love had never been in doubt, but Hildegard had also wished for a child of her blood. She’d claimed that lying with a man would mean nothing; even the goddess Freya had taken many lovers without regret, and Hildegard’s heart would remain with Frida.
    But it had mattered—at least to Annika’s mother. A terrible row had parted them, and even after Hildegard had returned a year later with the infant Källa, Frida hadn’t forgiven her. She’d refused to take Hildegard back into their home. After asking one of the other women to bring her a daughter from the New World, she’d poured all of her love into Annika instead.
    It hadn’t been enough. For two decades, Annika bore witnessto her mother’s silent longing, her pain—and the two women had remained apart.
    She and Källa had grown up as sisters, regardless. Everyone in Hannasvik knew that their mothers belonged together, and that they were both too stubborn and prideful to do anything about it. Heartache ruled them instead.
    So it was for Lucia, but stubbornness couldn’t be blamed. Her love was dead. And even if she tried to find another, love didn’t always come.
    Silence was Kentewess’s only reply. When she glanced at him, a flush had darkened his face. He seemed at a loss for words.
    Well, his aunt had not likely written that in her letters, had she?
    “Will you reprimand me for my impropriety?”
    “No.” Embarrassment receding, he shook his head. “I wasn’t prepared to think of her in that manner.”
    He preferred a warning? Very well, she would give him one. “Then prepare yourself for this: If you hope to take me to your bed, please understand that I cannot. It may be easy for others to take a lover, but it isn’t easy for me. I understand that I might enjoy it. But I would rather not take the chance of regretting it afterward. I’m not very adventurous.”
    He stared at her, his face unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough. “You are bold in other ways.”
    “Not in that way.” Even though she couldn’t stop imagining what bedding him would feel like. She was quite, quite certain that she would enjoy it. But that wasn’t enough. “I’d be sorry that you aren’t someone that I love.”
    “Is there someone?” It seemed dragged from him.
    “No. But there might be, one day.” She met his gaze squarely. “Is that what you want from me? Is that why you’re spending time with me now?”
    He looked at her for a long time, his jaw