Page 69 of Tempest

We are already paying, Cat thought, watching as the island of Prospera came into view.

Aptly named, Prospera was the jewel of the Esperese colonies, with rich soil for planting and vast fields of sugarcane. Its capital, Alvaris, was a lynchpin of trade between Esperin and the world. And a key way station in the transport of gold and silver from their mines on the Southern Continent.

Many a treasure fleet passed through Alvaris harbor, armored beyond comprehension, too strong for any warship, navy, or pirate.

She turned over her shoulder, away from the prow of the Fledge to face the stern. Captain Fell stood on the quarterdeck, with his helmsman and Lieutenant Whisten alongside. Even from a distance, Cat could see the scowl on Fell’s face.

Approach with caution, she told herself, ascending to the bridge.

“Gentlemen,” she offered, inclining her head to Fell’s men.

Whisten replied with a sour look and the helmsman averted his eyes entirely, focusing on their course into port. Most of Fell’s crew acted in similar fashion, avoiding Lady Rose whenever they could. It was no mystery as to why.

They know not to trust me, Cat thought, keeping her face calm and serene.

They are correct.

“I must voice my opposition one last time, Captain,” Whisten growled, turning on his heel to show Cat his back.

Fell gave him a withering look. “Your opinion has already been noted, Lieutenant.”

Despite Whisten’s rude stance, Cat did not miss the curl of his lip as he frowned. But he would not argue. Instead, he saluted sharply, obeying his commanding officer.

“Aye, sir,” he barked, turning to leave. Though he was sure to snarl in Cat’s face as he departed, his stinking breath washing over her.

“Traitorous whore.”

Years ago, the insult would have stung. Now Cat barely felt it. Traitor to whom? she wanted to ask, but bit back the instinct to infuriate an already furious officer.

Everyone, she knew. I am a traitor to everyone. Everyone but myself.

Cat watched Whisten go, retreating down the gangway to the main deck. He grumbled the entire way, and even kicked a bucket in frustration, spilling water across the timbers. Sailors scattered from his path, avoiding his wrath.

Cat could not help but smirk. Men are so emotional.

Captain Fell was no exception. She turned to find him not angry, but embarrassed. His face was paler than before, a muscle working in his jaw. Mr. Daylor, the helmsman, continued his work, still refusing to acknowledge Cat’s presence.

With a twitch of his hand, Fell beckoned, and she obliged, following him to the rear of the quarterdeck. They overlooked the stern of the Fledge, the grand standard of the Meridian Empire flowing over their heads. The Lion gleamed golden against a blue sky and even bluer waters.

Fell glared out to sea, his silver eyes like mercury. “My apologies for Lieutenant Whisten—”

“Don’t bother.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, he is hardly the only member of your crew to think such things of me.”

The muscle feathered in Fell’s jaw again.

Cat could not help but lower her voice, leaning into him. She shaded her eyes against the brilliant sun, fixing him with a keen stare of her own.

“Don’t act like you haven’t thought it yourself,” she murmured, her mouth curving into a half smile.

Fell’s cheeks flushed, but he did not try to deny it.

“Very well,” he grumbled.

“Besides, if we’re to measure whores, I’d say you qualify far more than I ever did,” Cat added as his blush spread.

He sputtered, taken off guard. “I beg your pardon?”

“You may not work in a brothel, but you sell your love same as whores do. Just not for coin,” she said, tapping the spot on his chest that usually bore medals and honors. “No one gives me medals for my smiles and good nature,” she added, her grin too wide.