Knigh gripped the wheel, back stiff, knuckles white. He stared fore as if their course took them between jagged rocks that required all his attention.

She clenched her jaw and drew a quick breath. Damn it. She’d so nearly made it all the way back to Albion without speaking to him. But what did she care? He’d be gone soon with no fuss from her. Just like he wanted. And other than a pleasant distraction back in Arawaké, he meant nothing to her.

Nothing.

Lifting her chin, she cleared her throat. “Where are we going? And why isn’t the Covadonga joining us?”

He didn’t tear his gaze from the easy course over clear waters. His throat bobbed slowly. “We’re docking in Portsmouth.”

She frowned, glancing east where Southampton, then Portsmouth lay. The nape of her neck tickled. “A naval dockyard?”

“Do I need to remind you once more that you’re privateers and”—he coughed softly—“and you have nothing to fear from the Royal Navy?”

It wasn’t fear. She scratched the back of her head, smoothing the hairs. Idiot.

Bricus approached from fore, his smile cheerful. “We’re keeping the two parts of the treasure separate.” He stopped a pace in front of her, staring up at her. Lords, when had his smile grown so infuriating?

She rubbed her face. No, that was unfair, she was just irritable being stuck here with Blackwood and FitzRoy. Bricus was simply a cheerful first mate—a good counterpoint to his captain, which was what a first mate was meant to be. She gave him a strained smile.

“Er, yes,” Blackwood said, nodding abruptly, “yes. The silver’s safer that way—it can’t all be stolen in one go.”

“And,” Bricus added, folding his arms, eyes still glinting up at her, “they’ll refit the Covadonga at Plymouth.”

Vice chuckled, glancing out to sea, but Perry’s ship was out of sight now. “Who’d be stupid enough to steal the Queen’s silver in her own country?”

“The criminal element will do anything,” Knigh said softly. “There’s been a spate of attacks by highwaymen.”

Like her sister, Kat. Her heart clenched, and her gaze drifted over the limestone cliffs and green hills of Albion. Once upon a time, it had been home. Something in it still called to her blood, to the gift that sang in her veins and told her each movement of the sea beneath her feet. The fae lived here and here alone, including her unknown father if he still lived.

So too did her real family. Mama, gentle and downtrodden beneath Papa’s stomping feet. Kat, who’d had to turn highwaywoman because of her useless husband. Nanny Alder—not blood, but family all the same.

Vice took a long, shaking breath and shook her head. Those were Avice’s concerns—Vice had treasure to deliver to her new Queen.