“Will someone throw me the white top drying by the door?” a voice called from the bedrooms. Colette stuck her head around the corner, arms crossed over her more-than-ample chest. She wore only a pink polka-dotted bra and a flowing skirt.
I turned around quickly, averting my eyes. Stellan didn’t. He gave her a teasing smile. “No,” he said. “We won’t.”
Colette gave him a look of mock outrage and teased back in French. I grabbed the shirt and tossed it toward her.
“Thank you, cherie,” she said, shooting an eye roll in Stellan’s direction before disappearing back into the room.
When the door closed behind her, I turned to Stellan. “Her boyfriend just died.”
“Yes.”
“You’re flirting with her.” He’d been doing it since we got to Greece. She’d cozy up to his side; he’d whisper something that made her giggle.
“Hmm. I take issue with that categorization. Technically, she’s flirting with me. I’m just following her lead.” The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, and Stellan made his way outside.
I followed. “Don’t you dare take advantage of Colette. I like her.”
He looked back inside and lowered his voice. “I like her, too. That’s the point. People grieve in different ways. Lettie wants a distraction, so I’m being nice.”
“Does she know that?”
He cocked his head to one side, and the sea breeze rippled his white button-down shirt. “Yes. How can I make you understand this? Lettie . . . she’s been in the spotlight for so long that she hates being alone. Being adored is her safe place. But everyone who usually fawns over her just treats her like a sad war widow now.” He paused, and I let it sink in. I’d never really thought about Colette that way. Stellan continued, “Harmless flirting happens to serve both our interests. And yours, really.”
“My interests?”
“If she’s happy, she’s more likely to help us with whatever insane plan you think up next.”
I paced down the stairs to the lower deck, Stellan on my heels.
“Do you always use sex to get your way?” I said, swirling a finger on a water mark on the top of the bar.
He scowled. “I’m not sleeping with her. As you so judgingly pointed out, her boyfriend just died. Her boyfriend who was a friend of mine, I might add, just like Colette is. I have some morals, you know.” He paused. “And anyway, girls do it all the time.”
I started to protest, but he went on. “Listen. I said I’d train you. Here’s a lesson that doesn’t have to do with fighting. Being nice doesn’t get you far in the world of the Circle. You have to use whatever tools you have to get ahead.”
He sounded surprisingly bitter. And the conversation sounded over.
“Just . . . don’t take advantage of her,” I said.
Stellan held up his hands in surrender or exasperation or both and settled down on a lounge chair two down from mine. After a few minutes, he gestured to the bracelet on my arm. I handed it over, and he spun it to a new word, paused when nothing happened, then tried a few more before handing it back to me.
I slipped it on my arm. “Three days,” I said under my breath.
Stellan looked out at the water. “That bracelet is somewhere. We’ll find it.”
“Maybe,” I said bitterly. “If I’m still allowed to, between the Saxons and Jack.” I didn’t really mean to, but I found myself telling Stellan about Jack wanting to bring my family into our search. “Being able to follow these clues myself is the only thing I still had a choice in, and if it were up to Jack, even that wouldn’t be my decision anymore.”
Stellan hauled himself to sitting. “You always have a choice.”
I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “I don’t think you’ve been paying very close attention. I’m so important in every aspect of what we’re doing, but it’s becoming obvious that none of it is my choice. I have literally three days until the Saxons marry me off. I’m just a particularly valuable puppet.”
Stellan swung his legs around and perched on the edge of the chaise, facing me. “Lots of people in your shoes would already be on the beach in Indonesia. Refusing to run away is a choice. It’s a brave one.”
Suddenly, I couldn’t sit still. “Why do you say stuff like that?” I paced the deck, my bare feet slapping the smooth, cool wood, remembering what Jack said had first attracted him to me. He saw me at school, looking like I didn’t care. Doing what I wanted, even if it wasn’t what everyone normally did. He didn’t realize I was doing it because I didn’t have another option.
“I’m only here because I have to be. It’s not exactly something to be proud of.”
I could feel Stellan’s eyes on me. “So you care about people and get stronger in response to difficult circumstances,” he said. “Those are good things.”
The ropes anchoring the boat next to us—the Konstantinos, according to the name emblazoned on its side—creaked against the dock.
Then a strange sound came from outside. A kind of a gruff growl. Stellan jumped up and hurried into the cabin. Just as quickly, he reemerged. “Hide,” he mouthed at the same time I heard a strange voice call out, “Astynomía. Police.”
Stellan dragged me behind the bar. We crouched side by side under the bar top.
“Why would the police be here?” I whispered.
“I don’t think they would,” he said, confirming my fears. What if Jack was right, and the Order had come to kidnap me?
The voices were closer now. I heard Colette speaking in French, then Elodie chimed in using English, obviously for my benefit.
“I think you have the wrong boat,” she said sweetly.