“A good day, Capitaine,” he said, lifting his chin. “A good day.”

Thomas had been an advocate until some calamity had shattered his mind and let a Torment in. Now he carried drinks in hands that quaked. According to Gretl, the job and its uniform gave him a sense of dignity and purpose he’d been lacking. His life was improving, but it was like building a sand castle one grain at a time.

Isabelle watched him walk away, taking every step as if he were on a tightrope in a high wind. Would she end up like him, a shadow of herself, or worse as one of the blank-eyed muttering ones who knew no reality beyond nightmare?

The very idea filled her with a dread that no amount of reason could suppress. If she had one constant joy in life, it was the freedom of thought and reason. Without that, she was nothing.

Yet she had dealt with fear before. The only answer was to keep focused on the goal, to keep pushing forward even into soul-shivering terror, even through despair. If she was doomed to madness, she would race it to the horizon ere it caught her up.

“Madame Isabelle,” said a voice as old and fruity as a shriveled plum. It heralded the arrival of an older Sanguinaire woman in a dress that set the standard for fussy, exploding with lace at every aperture like a pressure vessel captured at the moment of bursting.

“Capitaine,” Isabelle said. Perhaps she would have been better off wearing her uniform. “I’m afraid you have the advantage of me, Madame…”

“Duchesse Belda du Lavaudieu,” she said imperiously. “The one who paid for the Thunderclap.” Two of her servants posted themselves nearby, forming enough of a cordon to keep the rest of the celebrants away.

“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Isabelle said, her courtier’s smile asserting itself over her natural reticence. It was not unlikely that Duchesse Belda was amongst the cohort who had voted to strip Isabelle of her rights.

“Of course you are, dear,” Belda said. “I just want to make sure that you have everything that you need for success on this expedition. I expect good returns on my investment.”

“The ship and its crew are well prepared,” Isabelle said. It was one of the great flaws of l’Empire’s system that la reine had to lean on her nobles to pay for things like warships, which naturally encouraged said nobles to believe they ought to have some say in how the ships were used. It was entirely possible that Sireen had offered something in exchange for this civic donation, but if so, she hadn’t told Isabelle what it was.

Belda leaned in and stared up at Isabelle, “Are you sure? I only want the best people on my ship, and I have heard rumors of undesirables.”