A small giggle escaped her lips. When did Rhystan ever care about what was proper? And now he was a duke who could do as he pleased without fear of recrimination or punishment. As duke, no Vice Admiral Markham would have him tossed on a convoy. No man below his rank would dare put his hands on the duke or question his authority.

Sarani stilled.

Perhaps he was right. Or perhaps she was so weary she wasn’t thinking straight.

It didn’t matter. She was set on her course: she, Asha, and Tej would disembark and make their own way. With a determined breath, she rolled to the side of the bunk, performed her ablutions, and got dressed in her boy’s clothing without waking Asha. Perhaps a round of exercise on deck would help calm her roiling thoughts. Palming her kukri blades and slipping them into their leather harness that crisscrossed her shoulders and hugged her hips, she immediately felt better.

She exited the cabin and climbed the stairs to the main deck.

The pale golden rays of the morning sun washed across the worn wooden planks of the ship, splitting through the rigging and the foremast and mizzenmast and glittering across the uncommonly glass-like surface of the sea. It wasn’t like the usual chop of the open ocean.

A few men working the sails tipped their caps to her as she walked by.

As she climbed to the quarterdeck where the huge figure of Gideon stood, Sarani noticed other things through the sunrise haze. Like the tips of other masts glinting in the distance and what looked like the curve of land. Were they in a bay? Gracious, had they arrived at St. Helena already? She frowned when she reached Gideon, putting a hand to her brow to get a better view through the glare.

“Have we reached port already?” she asked.

His answer was a grunt that sounded like aye.

Something that felt like regret settled low in her stomach. It would be moments, not hours, that she would have to say her goodbyes. Gather her belongings. Formulate another plan of action. She huffed a breath, wondering idly where Rhystan was and feeling her sense of regret deepen. An ache began to build in her throat.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she said to the quartermaster. “For all your help these past weeks.” He gave another noncommittal grunt. “For what it’s worth, you have my gratitude. I better get back belowdecks, wake Asha, and retrieve our things.”

She retraced her footsteps, dimly registering that the ship’s nose pointed out to open water. Within seconds, sails were billowing and they began to gather speed. The shapes of other ships became smaller and smaller, and she could no longer see the outline of land. Sarani halted, blinking her confusion. Shouldn’t they be slowing?

“Gideon, do we not need more coal?” she asked, stalking back to the quartermaster.