“Captain?” Rysn said, calling over Drlwan again. “What has happened? Why are the sailors on edge?”

“It’s . . . nothing, Rebsk,” the captain said.

Rysn narrowed her eyes. Though she hadn’t thought it remarkable at first—as the captain could be a showy woman—Drlwan was outfitted today in her formal dress uniform. Stark white, glistening with medals. She also wore an intimidating tricorn hat, her eyebrows curled and dangling beneath it. Although she had retired from official military service, the navy and the merchant marine were really two sides to the same card; ranks and accolades were shared between the two.

Today, that uniform was a show of force. A symbol.

“Tell me anyway,” Rysn said.

Drlwan sighed. “Ship’s pet was found dead this morning.”

The ship’s pet was a skyeel, good for hunting rats. Rysn knew from her previous voyage that a lot of the crew had liked her.

“Bad omen,” Kstled muttered from behind.

That caused Drlwan to glare at him. Modern Thaylens weren’t as superstitious as their ancestors—or at least they weren’t supposed to be. They were good Vorins these days. And the coming of the Voidbringers—whose ways and worship seemed uncomfortably close to the Passions and Thaylen pageantry—hadn’t done the old religions any favors. Rysn herself had drifted away from such ways of thinking, trying to be more intentional about her beliefs.

At any rate, Thaylens formally ignored omens. It was on the books, you might say, that such things were nonsense. Yet tradition was powerful, and when out at sea, logicspren could seem distant things indeed.

“Having a Windrunner on board,” Rysn said. “Good omen?”

Kstled nodded, eyebrows sleek and tucked behind his ears. “You could call it a . . . replacement for the dead skyeel. A counter-omen to the one this morning.”

“It’s all nonsense,” the captain said. “I have told the crew many times that I won’t stand for this kind of talk.”

“Indeed, you are wise,” Rysn said. “Tell me, have the crew been informed of our destination?”

“They have.”

“And did any express concern?”

The captain sniffed. “They were instructed, prior to the briefing, that there would be no questioning or grumbling. Queen Fen herself sent a writ supporting this mission. So we are committed.”

“I see,” Rysn said. “Spread my will among the crew. Tell them that if any have misgivings about our destination, they may remain behind—with no punishment—and join us again when we return.”

Drlwan drew her lips to a line. She didn’t like it when Rysn gave orders about the crew, though it was within Rysn’s rights. “Very well, Rebsk,” Drlwan said, nodding to her brother. He bowed to Rysn and ran off to pass the word.

“This could delay the mission,” the captain noted.

“Then so be it,” Rysn said. “I know that the crew still feels uncertain about following me, considering my lack of experience.”

“You were hand-picked by Vstim and given this ship as a mark of his favor. No sailor would speak out against you.”

And that isn’t exactly a contradiction of what I said, now is it, Captain?

In that moment, a thought occurred to her. She’d been seeing this entire experience—Vstim giving her the ship, her elevation to rebsk—through her own eyes. But she had been taught to look at interactions in a different way. What did the captain want? Why was she dissatisfied?

You thought the answer a moment ago, Rysn told herself. This ship was commissioned long before it was given to you. It was sailed by this crew for months. And then . . .

“Captain,” Rysn said, “did you know Vstim was going to retire?”

“He . . . spoke of it to me. And others who served him.”

“Yet he commissioned a new ship. An expensive one, the jewel of his fleet. The best any sea had known. He told you to train a crew, to practice sailing it.”

“And?”

“You thought he was going to give it to you, didn’t you?” Rysn said, softening her tone. “You didn’t realize he was planning to give it to me.”

The captain stiffened. “No sailor would presume that a man like Vstim would simply give them a ship.”

“But he mentioned he was taking an investment position, didn’t he?” Rysn said. “He knew an appointment from the queen was going to come to him, and he wouldn’t be able to continue his expeditions. So he prepared you all ahead of time. He always watches out for the people he employs.”

The captain, not meeting Rysn’s eyes, gave an almost imperceptible hint of a nod.

Storms, that’s it. That’s why. Rysn’s sudden elevation, and her arrival on the ship as its new master, must have taken the entire crew by surprise. Vstim wouldn’t have prepared them for that, not when he hadn’t been certain Rysn would take the appointment.

All this day, Rysn had been thinking about how the ship wasn’t truly hers. Drlwan must have spent the entire previous voyage thinking the same exact thing.

“Is that all you need from me, Rebsk?” the captain asked.

“Yes,” Rysn said. “Thank you.”

The captain walked off to watch as her brother gathered the crew to relay Rysn’s order. Nikli, always trying to be helpful, brought her a cup of some orange wine, not intoxicating.

“You heard?” Rysn said.

“That they are spoiled children? Angry that someone would dare earn an appointment above them?”

“That is a shallow way of thinking of it, Nikli,” Rysn said, sipping the wine.

“I’m . . . sorry, Brightness. I’m merely trying to show you support.”

“You can support me without denigrating others,” Rysn said. “Think instead of how they must feel. You’re new to my employ, so you might not know my reputation.”

“I’ve heard you were a difficult apprentice.”

“Difficult?” Rysn said, smiling. “I was a spoiled child, Nikli. I complained about every expedition I went on, despite being shown the very best treatment by my master—one of the most renowned traders in the nation. The sailors who served Vstim would have seen firsthand the type of person I was then. Even if none of these did, they’d have heard.”

“Everyone acts a little entitled when young.”

“True,” Rysn said, “but you still wouldn’t be happy when that entitled youth was given the ship you thought would be yours.” She scratched Chiri-Chiri under the neck some more, earning a few quiet, contented chirps.

“So . . . what do we do?” Nikli asked.

“I do what Vstim did,” Rysn said. “Spend my life earning the trust of those around me. The captain likely thinks she could do the trademaster’s job, but she’d find negotiations far more difficult than she assumes. Vstim trusts me for a reason. I simply have to show the crew, through my actions, that his trust is well placed.”

“I don’t know, Brightness,” Nikli said. He turned to glance toward the crew gathered around the man-at-arms, who spoke to them loudly. “I think you’re giving them too much benefit of the doubt. I know how these sailors treated me during our previous trip. They don’t like me. I have odd tattoos, and I’m a foreigner. I tried talking to them, but . . .”