Nomi’s jaw clenched, and she stared fixedly at the worn deck, heat climbing her neck to her cheeks. You know it’s a lie. You know he’s doing this to protect us. She told herself this over and over, but his tone of voice, the ease with which he spoke, as if she were a dog he’d purchased and must now bend to his will… it dug inside her chest and hollowed her out.

“Ah,” the sailor said, and in that one small word, Nomi could hear his suspicion dissipate. He shifted, rocking back on his heels. At ease, now that it all made sense to him. Now that he knew her place. “Well, now. I think we can work with ye.”

Nomi had thought the palazzo was stifling. She’d wanted to escape the tight corsets and heavy dresses, the endless lessons and twisted politics of being a Grace. But the luxury had shielded her, just as Serina had once tried to convince her it would. And Asa had too. He’d given her the illusion she had some choice, some agency.

But Viridia was still twisted, its queens still buried deep.

Nomi stared at the scuffed tips of her too-big boots. She drifted, their voices losing meaning as they haggled over price, as they commiserated over the uselessness of women. She didn’t want to hear Malachi speak of his plans to tame her. She didn’t want to hear his voice turn him into a stranger.

The big sun-browned man hopped back to his boat and unlashed the two, retying Malachi and Nomi’s boat behind to tow it back to the flotilla of boats. Once docked, the man in charge disappeared for a spell, but Nomi didn’t move. She didn’t meet Malachi’s eyes, even when he cleared his throat and softly said her name.

When the man returned with their goods, Malachi thanked him and his companions and navigated the small sailboat north, away from the men lining the deck of the massive network of ships. Nomi sat down, moving carefully, precisely. Holding herself together with an iron grip. She kept her gaze fixed to her toes and her mouth shut tight.

“Nomi. Nomi.”

Nomi lifted her chin and stared at Malachi, a challenge in her eyes.

“He was suspicious,” Malachi said.

“I know.” She tried to keep her voice level, tried to ignore the pressure building in her chest.

“I told him what he needed to hear.” He looked at her, all earnest and reasonable. He didn’t understand.

“I know,” she said again. She understood. She understood everything.

It was good Serina was escaping to Azura. Nomi wasn’t sure that she believed anything would, or could, change. The truth was all around her, had always been. It didn’t matter if she fought against it or accepted it. Each small interaction, each small moment reminded her.