He crossed his hands and twisted the rope, then lifted it for Wynn and Effie to see.

Well, that wasn’t only observing.

Folding her arms, she sidled over behind Blackwood. She’d tell him and—

Even better—FitzRoy was approaching, a small frown in place as he watched.

She wouldn’t have to tell him anything.

Barnacle leapt off her shoulder and trotted over to Blackwood.

Vice glared after her. “What the—”

The little beast flopped over and stared up at him, green eyes wide.

Oh, he was in for a nasty surprise. Clever kitty.

Sure enough, he crouched and reached for Barnacle’s fluffy white tummy—a trap.

Hook line and sinker. She’d tear him to—

Except she didn’t. Vice blinked as Blackwood rubbed the little cat’s belly.

And the little minx purred.

Traitor.

Fine. Well, Fitz wouldn’t be so easily won over. She huffed and raised her eyebrows at him, indicating Navy boy’s little knot-tying lesson.

“Blackwood,” FitzRoy said, tone clipped, “if you’d oblige me.” He gestured towards his cabin and turned, not checking whether Blackwood followed. “And you, Vice,” he called over his shoulder.

What? Her, too? What had she done? Unless it was to report on all his interference.

She entered FitzRoy’s cabin a pace behind Blackwood and nodded. “Captain.” If Blackwood was about to get a dressing down, she didn’t want to put herself in the line of fire, too. Even if that did mean playing along with FitzRoy’s ridiculous desire to seem important in front of Navy boy.

FitzRoy lifted his chin, level gaze falling on Blackwood in a way that made up for the fact he was a few inches shorter. “What were you doing with my crew members, Blackwood?”

“Demonstrating the correct method for making a gasket coil hitch. They’re more secure than bight coil hitches, which I noticed were employed throughout The Morrigan.”

So it wasn’t just to look neat. At least as far as Blackwood was concerned, the hitch he’d used was more fit for purpose. She raised her eyebrows.

FitzRoy’s jaw ratcheted a notch tighter.

Knigh tilted his head, lifting one shoulder. “Regardless of which is more effective, the bights had been started incorrectly, FitzRoy.”

Vice’s eyes widened, and she shot him a look. His face was impassive as always—wait, no, there was a slight narrowing of his eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing, dropping Fitz’s title just as Fitz had dropped his. Two captains on a ship, of course it was bound to lead to a power play.

Good, maybe that would work in her favour—let Fitz direct his irritation at Blackwood, and she’d look great in comparison.

Fitz’s nostrils flared. “And yesterday you spoke to my quartermaster about a matter of ship management, also, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

Vice cleared her throat. “And you asked about the powder storage the other day.”