She caught the front of his shirt before he could walk away. “Your father could have said no—my father could have stopped him. And who’s to say Mellifare wouldn’t have tricked someone else? Someone I met said this was the only future, where we defeated the Great Dark. So I’m glad you’re here, Dmitri.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips were cold, but soft.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and departed the ship for the waystation.

Once she dried her eyes and straightened her blouse, she set off into the waystation. It was cold, and the air tasted stale—like it had on the Tsarina. Not many people traversed this area of the kingdom. It was in no-man’s-land. She wondered who kept up the place. It definitely didn’t look homey, and she doubted they received many provisions in the ass end of space. The station was well kept, though, with barely a drift of dust. Where there would be a market for trading, the stalls sat empty, curtains closed over most of the cubicles. There was a bar with a neon light flickering at the entrance, and a few crew members from Siege’s fleetships sat around drinking something that smelled stronger than bourbon. Just like the Dossier, Siege’s other ships collected the lost and the forgotten—Cercians, Solani, Erosians, and once-Ironbloods and a few Metals. The last time the fleetships had all come together, it had been to mourn the passing of the Prospero’s late captain. She wished there was a more joyous occasion to call everyone together, but it seemed like even the end of the world wasn’t stopping them from drinking.

“Lookin’ for something, lass?” a gruff, ginger-bearded man called. He had kind eyes and a wide smile, and Ana recognized him instantly—the captain of the Illumine. And the ex-con pickpocket who’d tried to steal from Siege.

“Redbeard!” Ana cried, and ran to the burly man.

With a laugh he scooped her up in his thick arms and swung her around. “It’s so good to see you, lass! Heard you’ve been getting into trouble.” He set her down again. He smelled like motor oil and leather, and he looked like he hadn’t aged a day.

“None at all,” she replied with a smile. “I heard you’d been tussling with the dreadnought out near Cerces.”

“Ha! Tryin’ to. It’s almost impenetrable!”

“Almost,” she reminded him, tapping the side of her nose, and his compatriots howled with laughter.

Redbeard leaned to one of his crewmembers, a fresh-faced young woman with dark blue hair, and said, “This’s Captain Siege’s daughter. Finest troublemaker in the kingdom.”

“I expect nothing less from her,” added a familiar voice near the back of the bar. Ana spun around to the owner of the voice, a tall androgynous person with long black hair that reached well below their waist, and warm brown skin, decked in gold jewelry and a coat the color of a nebula. They grinned at her, and the neon implants in their cheeks glowed a brilliant teal.