Sworn To Transfer

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A storm was rolling in off the coast of Sandrin. Heavy rains buffeted the docks and high winds whipped the ends of coiled loops of thick sailor’s rope up into the air across the deck of the large ship. Ciardis Weathervane huddled miserably as she felt the ice-cold wind and rain buffeting her every few minutes in steady waves. First the cold rain would slice into her face, and then a heavy stream of frosty air would strike, pushing her cloak back and soaking her front. Still, she stayed where she was, and she fought not to shiver under the thick blue cloak that she wore.

Prince Sebastian wasn’t far from her side. If you could call across the ship with dozens of soldiers between them “not far.” It was the closest he’d been to her in weeks, though. Ciardis felt her heart clench just a little when she thought about that. The distance that seemed to have grown between the two of them wasn’t only physical. Shaking off her nerves and turning from the railing where she gazed pensively down into the gray, churning water of the ocean, she took in the gathering around her.

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