Footsteps came closer and Rahel shrank into his side. There was another crash and the door was kicked in, the painted wood splintering by the lock. A Misarro stood in the doorway, her spiked hair like flames about her face, golden disks covering her throat, no crest on her tunic. She took one look at Leo, then quickly stepped aside to let a woman enter the cabin. She was in her sixties and very tall, thick black curls streaked with gray piled up on her head, studded with an enormous crown conch. She wore navy pants and a pinstripe blazer, a silver-topped cane in one hand.

And she had Leo’s eyes, exactly.

When she caught sight of him, her expression seemed to fracture, revealing pain, raw and jagged. Then she blinked and it was gone.

“You must be Leo,” she said, stepping forward. “By the goddesses . . . she has indeed been born again in you.”

“W-who are you?” Leo stammered, but the answer was as plain as his face.

“I’m your grandmother,” the woman said. “Ambrosine Byrne.”

Rahel let out a whimper. “You can’t be here,” she said. “This is my ship, mine! You aren’t sup—”

Leo’s grandmother turned to Rahel with an expression reserved for unwanted vermin. “Rahel, do us all a favor and shut your mouth,” she said. “Your ship has no cannons, a skeleton crew, and my Misarros are better than yours. And before you even think to say it, yes, of course I know who your mother is, you pitiful little fool, and as you can see, I do not care. I’m taking my grandson and that’s all there is to it. Your guard has been subdued and your ship crippled. Now do be a good girl and sit down.”

To Leo’s shock, Rahel plopped herself down on the chaise, eyes filled with tears, lips pressed together, cheeks red.

“Come, Leo,” Ambrosine said, and Leo followed, half dazed, until he came to his senses.

“Where’s Sera?” he demanded, turning on the princess. Rahel raised a hand and dumbly pointed to the left. Leo turned to his grandmother. “I’m not leaving without my friend.”

Irritation flashed in Ambrosine’s eyes, but she gave an elegant shrug. “Very well.” With a snap of her fingers, the Misarro was sent off down the hall, kicking in door after door until Leo heard Sera’s shocked cry. His bones melted with relief.

“It’s all right, Sera, it’s me, we’re safe!” he called, and the next thing he knew Sera was flying out of the room and down the hall. She was unharmed, as Rahel had promised.

“You’re all right,” she said, throwing her arms around him. Her warm softness and flowery-starlight scent engulfed him and he felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach. “I was so worried about you.”