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“You’re good at that,” I say.

Maxim glances up, his hood shadowing his face. “At rowing?”

I shrug, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“I should be,” he says with a low chuckle. “I come from a family of shipbuilders.”

“Shipbuilders?”

He nods, his gaze fixed on the water as he rows. “My father, my uncles, my cousins—they all build ships. It’s what we’ve done for generations. I grew up on the docks, pretending that I was helping them work when I was probably only getting underfoot. I always thought I’d follow in their footsteps. Woodwork. Sails. Making things that could carry people away.”

“What changed?” I ask.

He hesitates, his hands tightening on the oars. “I had a younger sister. Her name was Phoibe. She was always laughing, always running ahead of me, like she couldn’t wait to see what was around the next corner.”

His voice falters, and I feel the ache in his words.

“She drowned,” he says finally.

“Maxim, I—”

“It’s all right,” he says, cutting me off gently. “It was a long time ago. But after that, I wasn’t the same, and my family didn’t know what to do with me.”

He pauses, his gaze distant as if he’s looking back at a memory. “Then the king commissioned my family to build a ship. A grand one, for the royal fleet. One day, they came to see the progress—the king, his advisors, and Kallias.

“It wasn’t long after Aella had been sent away, not that I knew that at the time, of course. I didn’t think anything in a prince’s life could be bad. He was just this boy, standing there looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.”

A smile curves his mouth as the oars dip into the water with a soft splash. “I don’t know what came over me, but I challenged him to a footrace down the dock.”

I can’t help but smile at the image. “And?”

“And he won,” Maxim says. “Barely. I was so sure I had him, but he pulled ahead at the last second. When we reached the end of the dock, he turned to me and said, ‘Better luck next time,’ and those few words changed the course of my life.”

“How?”

“It was the first thing he’d spoken in almost half a year. The king was so pleased, he offered my family a shipbuilding contract in exchange for me.”

“For you to become his companion and train as his guard?” I ask.

He nods, his gaze dropping to the water. “I didn’t have much of a choice. My family needed the contract, and I thought maybe it would be a fresh start.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

His expression turns thoughtful. “Sometimes,” he admits. “I always thought I’d build my own ship one day. Take it across the seas, see if there’s anything else out there.”

“You still could,” I say. “Build your own ship, I mean.”

“Maybe. One day.”

“You’d probably have to take Kallias with you, though. He might not cope otherwise.”

“You might be right.” He huffs a small laugh. “What about you? You mentioned joining the Aviary wasn’t a choice.”

I hum in acknowledgment, my fingers curling around the edge of the bench as I lean forward. “I don’t remember much about my parents, bits and pieces mostly. My mother’s laugh, my father’s hands, the smell of fish and brine when they would return from their work. But they’re more like fragments of a dream than real memories.

“After they were gone, it was just me and Lucaz, so we had to figure it out on our own. He learned how to survive on the streets, and he taught me everything he knew. When I was seven…” I trail off, scanning the banks on either side of the canal. “They approached him and offered to take him in. But when he mentioned me, they said I was too young.”

Maxim’s upper lip curls. “They would’ve left you on the streets?”