Sarani glanced down at her stained clothing. Not that she had a choice now. She didn’t have a garland of flowers or anything on her person, but she offered up a simple chant in her heart for him. Her moments with him had been precious, if few later on. As a child, she had memories of him carrying her on his shoulder, tossing her up into the air while she giggled and gasped for breath, and him pointing out the movement of the stars. Sarani stopped on the lower deck and caught the first glimmers winking in the distance. He’d taught her about the constellations, the positions of the planets, and their meanings from ancient Indian scriptures called the Rigveda.

“It’s called science of light,” he’d explained once.

Perched high on his shoulders, she’d wrinkled her nose. “Why, Papa?”

“The planets are constantly in motion, and on the day of someone’s birth, their destiny is written. We offered water and light for blessings on yours.”

“Papa, did my stars say I would be big and strong like you?”

“You will be a force, little one.”

The memory made her chest ache as Sarani stared up at the darkening, purplish sky above the ship. She wondered if this journey—and his death—had been foreseen. “I miss you, Papa,” she whispered.

With one final look to the brightening stars, Sarani swallowed down the lump in her throat and headed down to the pens where she grabbed her trusty shovel. Her shadow, Red, trailed her at a discreet distance, staying away as if sensing her morose mood. The cheeky boatswain had always accompanied her around the ship, but now he was extra vigilant. Her official guard, she supposed. Normally, Red was a chatterbox, but he hung back, content to keep an eye on her, and didn’t intervene.

Sarani bit back a curse. No doubt, it was a command from Rhystan…that she had to perform her duties alone. It wasn’t Red’s fault. In fact, in his defense, he had offered before, but she’d always refused. She wanted to pull her weight for the sake of the crew.

Not their hard-headed, hard-eyed, hard-bodied captain.

With a groan, Sarani gritted her teeth, swallowing the foul oaths about the man fulminating on her tongue. If a little work was the price to pay for safe passage, she would do it. And she would do it without complaining. She wouldn’t voice her murderous thoughts, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the idea of punishing the captain with slow and gratifying delight.

In fact, as she started to shovel the fresh clumps of manure into a heap, she took great satisfaction in imagining his stupidly handsome face beneath it.

* * *