“Yes. She didn’t want him to suffer, but she hadn’t the strength to do it herself.”

The heat of a tear slithered down my cheek. Lianna had known the truth about my father the whole time. She’d watched him die and kept her secret from me, her captain. Even when Rylander and his crew boarded our ship, she’d never betrayed their prior meeting. And neither did he.

My cheeks sucked in with a new thought. “But I thought Rylander could heal. Why didn’t he heal him?”

“I don’t know the extent of Rylander’s abilities. That’s a question you would need to muster the courage to ask him.” She stood. “What’s important is that Rye never set out to murder your father. He’s done nothing but help us, and I can’t speak on when or how he’s used his abilities on you, but I doubt it stemmed from malice. It was he who ordered the royal guards to have your father cleaned up for a proper burial.”

She rounded the desk and took me in her arms. On another day, I wouldn’t have accepted this kind of embrace, one that made me feel weak, vulnerable, and childish, but my heart had severed into slivers on hearing the truth of my father’s death. I no longer had a face upon which to tack the blame. No one to villainize for taking the man who raised me, provided for me, and taught me everything I knew.

We stood in silence for as long as my legs would hold me upright. When she released me, she held onto my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. Her own were tinted red, water clinging to her lower lashes. “Talk to him. Ask the questions you’re scared of. Then, if you still feel this way, ignore him for the rest of the voyage, do what you have to in order to feel just, but don’t assume you know best and let the hate build in your heart. If you are anything like your father, and I know you are, you’ll do what’s best for your crew and your ship.” She kissed my forehead the way my mother used to and left me alone with my thoughts.

I peered down at my hand. The gash from my bout by the tavern had been healed. Not even the faint reminder of a scar resided among my few freckles. When Rylander said he’d used his powers on me, maybe he’d meant mending my skin. That would be innocent enough. Should I ask him before I assumed the worst?

Frustrated with the ifs and maybes, I stormed out of my chambers and headed toward Rylander’s room.