Page 42 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

Fraya was quiet for a long moment. “Theron knows everything about everyone on this ship,” she said. “He would have known.”

“And it didn’t matter.”

“No.” She met my eyes. “I told you. He doesn’t forgive easily. Doesn’t matter who you are, or what you’re carrying, or who’s waiting for you somewhere. The moment you turn on someone weaker than you—” She made a small, final gesture with her hand. “That’s it. There’s no version of you he’s willing to remember after that.”

“That seems like a heavy burden to carry.” I glanced over to the cook, arguing about spices.

“Maybe.” Fraya took our cups and placed them on the counter, then came back. “But it’s the only thing that’s kept this crew safe as long as it has. Everyone here knows exactly where the line is.”

She stood, brushing off her pants. “I’ll get you something to eat. Maybe that’ll help too.”

I smiled despite everything. “Thank you.”

She nodded once and headed toward the cook.

I watched her go, weaving between crew members, talking to them with ease. I wondered what it had cost her to get here. Walking away in the middle of the night with whatever coin she could carry, finding a ship full of strangers, convincing a man she could fight when she couldn’t. All of it just to end up somewhere safer than where she’d started.

Maybe that’s all any of us were doing. Walking until we found somewhere that didn’t hurt as much. Somewhere safe. A place one could call home.

Fraya returned a few minutes later with a plate of bread and something warm wrapped in cloth, setting it on my lap.

“Eat. You’ll need it before we dock.”

“How long until we reach port?”

“Couple hours, maybe less.” She glanced toward the stairs leading up to the deck, then back to me. “Theron will want everyone ready. He doesn’t like delays.”

Behind her, through the small porthole, the land had grown closer. No longer a gray smudge but shapes. Rooftops. Smoke curling from chimneys. A world I knew nothing about getting closer with every breath.

I picked at the bread, my appetite still not quite returned. “Fraya, I—” I stopped myself.

What was I doing? Telling her about the blue blood meant telling her about the healing too, and about Barron seeing it, and about everything Theron clearly didn’t want spoken aloud. That wasn’t my secret alone to give away, not when it might put her in danger just for knowing it.

“Never mind,” I said.

She arched and eyebrow, but she didn’t push.

“Eat,” she said again, softer this time. “We’ll talk later. I need to find Theron.”

I felt grateful for our friendship. But would she turn her back on me like Barron had? I had to believe there were good people in this world. Because if not, who could I trust?

What was the point of making connections with anyone, if all they did was betray you in the end? I made my way toward Jina and stopped short when I spotted Fraya and Theron.

I hid behind the wall so they couldn’t see me and peeked out. Theron and Fraya stood close together by the stairs leading to the upper deck, heads bent toward each other.

“You can’t take them,” she whispered.

“I have to. I have no choice. She knows everyone on this ship.”

Who is “she”?

“When are you going to stand up to them and take what’s rightfully yours?”

The rest of their words were lost to the wind, but Fraya’s hands moved sharp and fast. Theron’s jaw went tight. When he glanced toward the wall I was hiding behind, I pushed back, heart racing, hoping he didn’t see me.

He spoke again and I peeked out.

“My word is final,” he said.