When Lovisa told her they’d be flying to Torla’s Neck in an illegal, unregistered, uninspected airship that looked like something one of her brothers would make, then clarified that none of her brothers was older than nine, Bitterblue went to Vera and asked if there was a dark room where she could lie down for a while. “I’m a little overwhelmed,” she said, speaking a thousand times more calmly than she felt. “Also, I’m afraid of heights and I get seasick. I’m concerned about this flight.”

“Queen Bitterblue,” said Vera. It was the first time anyone had called her that since she’d fallen out of her royal ship into the sea, and it helped. It made her feel like a person contained in a body, rather than a ball of frantic fear unraveling all over Vera’s office. “We have teas in Winterkeep to help you with those feelings.”

“You do?”

“In particular, we have a tea called rauha. It helps with motion sickness, while creating a state of anxiety-free well-being.”

“It sounds like magic,” said Bitterblue suspiciously. “There must be something wrong with it.”

Vera nodded. “Certainly. It’ll turn you silly. You should perhaps not make any important decisions while under its influence. And it’s addicting if you take it every day, so you must use it only occasionally. You’re small,” she said, cocking her head sideways, surveying Bitterblue. “Your dose will be low.”

“Is it legal?”

“Yes, and regulated. That’s how we can be sure of your dose. Would you like to try some before night comes, as an experiment?”

Bitterblue had the sense sometimes that her entire life was an experiment. Should she try this drug, being pushed upon her by a criminal smuggler? “Why do you operate illegal airships?” she demanded.

Vera’s expression was as closed as ever. “Because a single powerful family in Ledra shouldn’t have a monopoly on an idea,” she said. “Especially an idea for which they overcharge.”

“How did you get the technology? Please tell me that you do, in fact, use known technology?”

“All you need is one genius who has a modest position as a chemist in a Varana factory, a few years to observe and experiment, and a disregard for the non-disclosure contracts she signs.”

“I see.”

“A single family shouldn’t have a monopoly on an idea,” Vera said again.

“So your reasons are socialist,” Bitterblue said dryly. “And ideological.”

A sudden, surprising smile broke across Vera’s brown face. “Sure,” she said. “Also, Kamassarian smugglers pay us a lot of money for them.”

“You build them for Kamassarian smugglers?”

“Or anyone Kamassarian who can promise to fly them only at night,” Vera said. “We sell to the occasional Borzan too. Now, how about it? Would you like to try our rauha? It, at least, is thoroughly legal.”