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Sablo snorts, then lifts a hand to his head in a gesture I can’t make out. I look to Gwyn.

“Pirates,” she says.

“Pirates!”

She nods, like it’s common, then shrugs. “Like I said, Crane keeps the rebellion brewing. There are just enough men still loyal to him to cause trouble. He’s still got half a dozen ships in the water, and he’s a clever bastard. TheDawn Chaseris a small ship, so they probably won’t pay us any notice, but you never know.”

I don’t know what expression is on my face, but it must look worrisome, because she smiles. “Don’t worry. Crane hasn’t been able to put a hand on Rian yet. Trust me, he’s tried. Cap’s pretty clever himself.”

The rest of the day passes surprisingly quickly, but I can’t stop myself from turning over the stories that Gwyn told me about pirates in the waters surrounding Ostriary. I should probably tellCorrick—unless he already knows. I deliberated over it earlier, chewing on my anxiety, wondering if Corrick and Rian would bring their tension back to the stateroom. But Rian eventually returned to the main deck to join Marchon at the helm, while the prince remained scarce.

Good. I certainly have no desire to go chasing after him.

As soon as I have the thought, sadness hits me in the gut. A wedge has formed between us so fast. I hate it. Is it his fault? Is it mine?

Either way, I can’t sit and dwell on it, because I’m going to make myself crazy. I eventually ask for more tasks. I’m shown a burn that needs a measure of salve, followed by a small cut that looks a bit infected. Later, Sablo gives me a needle and thread and a pile of fishing nets that need repairing. He shows me how to weave the strands together, his large hands deftly forming an even pattern that’s loose enough to flow freely, and tight enough to trap fish. Later, lunch is served on the deck, a light fare of warm rolls, soft cheese, and fried fish.

Still no Corrick.

I frown and stay with my nets, sitting on a bench along the ship’s railing. I was so eager for this journey, for the chance to do somethingbigger, but it seems I’ll be spending the entire trip with my stomach tied up in knots.

By the time the sun begins to slip below the horizon, the sky is lit up with shades of pink to our west, the storm an ever-present line of purple clouds to our north—though it seems more distant. Gwyn rings a bell for the crew to fetch their dinner, but I have a small pile of nets left to repair, so I don’t move.

Brock spies me across the deck before he goes down the steps,and he lets out a whistle. “Come along, miss. Tor always grabs seconds before anyone else.”

I smile. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

The deck empties, but not everyone goes below. To my surprise, Lochlan remains. I’m determined to ignore him, but he heads right for me.

I hate that my first thought is to wonder if one of the guards is still up here. It feels rude to look for them, so I keep my eyes on the nets.

Lochlan stops a short distance away. He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Aren’t you eating?”

“I will,” I say.

He fidgets, shifting his weight, which makes me look up.

“I should apologize,” he says.

“Well, that’s almost enough to make me fall over the railing,” I say.

“Not for what I said about the prince,” he says quickly.

“Of course not.”

“But I shouldn’t have been so crass. Karri would never forgive me.” He pauses, running his hand across his jaw. “I am sorry, Tessa.”

He sounds genuine, so I nod. “Thank you,” I say.

“I’m not … I’m not worried about him tossing me overboard anymore.”

My eyebrows go up. Maybe Corrickhasbuilt a bit of trust with the rebel somehow.

But then Lochlan adds, “I don’t think the captain would allow it, you know? He’s a good man.”

I’m struck by the confidence in his tone. So much so that my hands go still. “I think so, too.”

He nods. “I thought this whole thing was a little crazy at first. Just a trick to put me on the bottom of the ocean. But now … now I’m more worried that the prince will ruin our chance to get more medicine. That he’ll spit in the face of the Ostrian king and we’ll go home empty-handed.”