No one, really. She wanted the bath. Badly. Blast it. She would eat humble pie. She would devour it and beg for more. She didn’t even care if Rhystan bathed first. He took meticulous care of his personal hygiene. She would know—she had to empty the used basin water from the small chamber in his quarters and refill it twice daily after his ablutions. Though he was a foul-tempered arse, he didn’t make her empty his chamber pot, thank goodness. He had Tej do that.

A small mercy for which she was grateful.

Back in her cabin, where Asha was tidying the cramped space after patching a small mountain of men’s clothing, Sarani had the thought that Asha and Tej did not look worse for wear. For the most part, her servants had been treated well, which gave her hope. Tej had been tasked with helping the ship’s cook. He stirred oats and broth two times a day. And when he wasn’t helping in the kitchen, he was mending sails, braiding ropes, and shoveling coal with the other deckhands, or emptying ducal chamber pots overboard.

She hadn’t spoken to either of them about what had happened in the palace since they’d left, keeping her lingering fears buried. And her worry that her cousin Vikram had to have allies who’d been opposed to her father. Deposing him would not have been easy if her cousin didn’t have support. Getting an assassin inside wasn’t the issue, it was making sure that he would be championed by the British regent as the new maharaja. Sarani grimaced. Talbot undoubtedly would have been salivating at the thought of more control. Pockets would have been liberally lined…enough to commit regicide and enough to ensure Vikram’s new station.

That craven, heartless bastard.

Though she mourned her father deeply, fretting about the past wouldn’t help her now. Even though they were well on their way from India, Sarani couldn’t be sure that trouble wouldn’t follow them, especially since she’d involved the harbormaster in Bombay to help her secure passage. And to be truly safe, Sarani had needed to vanish. Without any trace.

The harbormaster was a trace. A loose end and someone who had seen her. And that worried her.