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Lochlan took me and Corrick prisoner. He marched us through the mud to a waiting mob that wanted to kill the King’s Justice.

But Lochlan had no other options. As horrible as he was, I understood why he did it.

I swallow, and my throat feels tight.

Rian’s eyes search mine, and I know he’s trying to puzzle that out, to determine what kind of conflict we’ve brought aboard his ship.

“And the prince himself?” Rian says, and his voice is very careful.

I didn’t make you wait.

The words I said to Corrick burn in my heart, and warmth climbs up my cheeks again. “The prince wants the best for Kandala,” I say. “He won’t cause any problems. He’s eager to find a new supply of Moonflower.”

Rian rubs a hand across his jaw. “Again,” he says gently, “I meant foryou.”

The wind whispers between us now, a brief lull in the sweeping gusts, and we’re almost close enough to share breath. I wasn’t prepared for these kinds of questions, especially not at the top of a mast.

“We’re flying,” Rian says. “No one can hear your words up here. Speak freely.”

“I’d speak freely on the decks,” I say.

“Would you?”

My chest feels hot and tight, and I don’t know what to say. “Of course.”

But there’s really noof courseabout it.

“I saw the way people jumped when the king spoke at dinner,” Rian says. “I see the way you look to the prince before you say a word.” He hesitates. “I’ve told you before, I don’t mean to say things that will put you at risk.”

“I’m not at risk!” I snap, and then I scowl because I hate that he brought out my temper—when he’s not the one who deserves it. At the same time, I wonder if what he’s saying is true. Do I look like I’m deferring to Corrick and Harristan? Do I look like I’m at risk?

The memory of Corrick holding a dagger to that man’s throat in the candy shop is seared into my brain as clearly as the time I found him in the rubble of the Hold after one of the first rebel attacks. He’d cut two prisoners’ throats, then. I keep thinking of Lochlan’s warnings in the hallway. They feel a little too accurate all of a sudden.

Or the way Karri leaned in to whisper in the candy shop.He’s still terrifying.

Rian studies me for a long moment. “Around the docks, there are dozens of rumors about a girl named Tessa who used to work with a man named Wes to steal Moonflower to help the people. That she was one of the bravest outlaws the people had ever known. That she risked her life to sneak into the palace to bring news of better medicine.”

That wasn’t why I snuck in, but it’s a better story than saying I hoped to assassinate the king after I thought “Wes” had been killed by Prince Corrick.

“Their doses were too high,” I say. “We’re trying to convince people that more could be done with less. No one trusts the Crown yet.”

“But they trust you.” He pauses. “Even thoughWes and Tessadisappeared from the Wilds.”

He says that like he knows the truth—but the prince has never directly confirmed his involvement. Everything happened so quickly that night, and certainly no one could prove it. I don’t know what to say.

“Theydotrust you,” Rian says. “Not just the people either. Prince Corrick brought you along to ensure the Moonflower in Ostriary is the same as what you have in Kandala. The guardsman said you’ve earned the king’s favor and protection, too. I sense that’s not a small thing.”

“No,” I say softly. “It’s not a small thing.”

His eyes search my face. “What I heard about you is vastly different from rumors about the King’s Justice.” He pauses. “Surely you can understand my confusion about the company you keep, and whether you’re at risk—or whether you’re at his side by your own choosing. Did Prince Corrick really hang bodies along the gates of the Royal Sector? To prevent thieving?”

There’s no disguising the judgment in his voice.

I can’t even deny it. I wish I could. I’ll never forget the bodies, the daggers protruding from the eye sockets, the Moonflower blossoms planted on the corpses that hung in the summer sun. Sometimes I smell something rotten, and it triggers memories of the stench, the buzzing of the flies, the guards mocking me for staring in horror. It triggers memories of my panic and grief, to see my friend’s body displayed in such a way.

Corrick, I think.Corrick did that.

The corpse I saw wasn’t Wes. Not really. And the man he hung in his place truly was a criminal. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that.