Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence 5)

‘Trust me,’ I huffed, pushing up the window and leaning out, ‘you aren’t.’

Outside, the air was moderately fresher than in the room. Still, the odour of the seaweed, combined with the exquisite perfume of l’eau de la merde issuing from the sack, managed to make even the fresh morning air smell like a big pile of horse shit. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.

Slipping two fingers between my lips, I whistled. Karim, who was standing guard a little farther down the wall, turned and glanced up at me.

‘Yes?’

‘Catch!’

The big Mohammedan ducked just in time to avoid being brained by a mouldy ship plank. His hands shot out to grab the thing, and, stumbling, he tumbled into the nearest flower bed. Yellow tulips. How fitting.

‘Have a care, Prince Fragrant Yellow Flower!’ I called down to him, grinning broadly. With a little bow, I let the sack drop, too, and it landed with an unappetizing noise next to the flower bed. ‘We would not want you to injure your majestic royal self.’

Karim sent me up a look that could kill at twenty paces. Luckily, I was at least twenty-five away.

‘What,’ he enquired, raising the plank, ‘is that?’

‘Oh, just a little present.’

‘A present? A mouldy ship plank?’

‘Oh yes. Some people say they’re very good for your health.’

He gave me a long, long look—the kind of look you give a person when you decide how best to chop their head off. ‘Is your brand of madness hereditary, woman? Because if so, I shall advise the Sahib to reconsider his marriage offer.’

‘Don’t worry.’ I grinned down at him. ‘My madness is undoubtedly and uniquely me.’

With that, I leant back into the room and shut the window. When I turned, Ella was staring at me, eyes wide.

‘There’s a prince outside my window?’

I sighed. Edmund and Ella really were meant for each other.

*~*~**~*~*

With every passing day, Ella improved. My hope soared, and along with it, Ella’s ravenous desire for answers. While she had still been weak, I’d been able to placate her. But now that she was able to sit on her own again and wasn’t spending half the day producing masses of merde, there was no stopping her.

‘It’s that army fellow, isn’t it? Captain Carter?’

I shook my head.

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’ Ella sent me a suspicious look over the top of her glass. ‘He didn’t ask you?’

‘Oh, he asked me. I turned him down.’

She spat her water all over her covers. ‘You what?’

‘Turned him down. You know, down, the opposite of up?’

‘When was this?’

‘Last year, shortly before Christmas.’

‘But…but he…he’s…’ Raising her hands, she indicated the captain’s impressive measurements. ‘Half of the girls I know would kill to get his hands on him.’

‘They might just have to. He’s on another continent fighting rebels right now.’