She yanked her finger free, and though Vivia could have held on, she saw no reason to. Vaness could win this one. But if the Iron Bitch thought she could be on board without using her magic to fight, then she was sorely mistaken. Every sailor did their part here, even royalty. Especially royalty.

It wasn’t until hours later, as Vivia oversaw repairs to the Iris’s main deck, that she remembered all the blood. Vaness had almost passed out. In fact, she’d almost lost control entirely … So maybe it was not mere insubordination that made her so angry, so vicious.

Maybe it was fear. Maybe something was wrong.

It was nearing midday before the Dalmotti navy caught up. Vivia didn’t know why she was surprised. She’d likely sunk their ship, and she’d outrun a Doge’s command. Of course they would want retribution.

The question was why he had wanted her and Vaness to remain in Veñaza City at all. Why he had risked battle in the first place just to keep them there. No matter the answer, when the ship’s girl shouted, “Warships on the horizon,” Vivia knew right away that the chase had begun.

“Witches,” she hollered, abandoning the tiller to Sotar again, “it’s time to fly. Leeri! Take the drum.”

“Where will we go?” Sotar asked, spyglass trained on the horizon.

“Nihar,” Vivia replied.

He snapped down the glass. “Your father will have people there—”

“And we won’t stay.” An unwelcome flush rose to Vivia’s cheeks. Stix would never question her. Stix would never pause.

Sotar seemed to realize his mistake, for his expression shuttered. He bowed his head. “Of course, Your Majesty. Do we go to Lejna, then?”

“No.” She flung her finger east. “We go to the Lonely Bastard. For now, steer us directly to shore. I will handle the rest.” Then she loped down the main deck, aiming for the ship’s stern once more. Her Windwitches were lined up, their wind-spectacles on, and Cam was once again at the drum.

“Not too fast a rhythm this time,” Vivia called as she clipped past. “We’ll need to hold the space steady.”

“Is this wise?” came a new voice, and suddenly the Empress of Marstok was in step beside Vivia. Cleaner, though her baggy uniform still bore stains. Perhaps Vivia should find her more clothes.

Incomprehensibly, she was embarrassed she hadn’t considered that sooner.

“You overdid yourself only last night, and now you plan to use your magic again?”

“Why, Empress.” Vivia bared a sideways smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried about me.”

Vaness’s lips compressed. She regarded Vivia with open disdain.

“But I do know better,” Vivia finished, reaching the stern. She grabbed hold of the railing. “I won’t exert myself. Just an easy tide to get us ahead of those boats and into hiding.”

“They will have Tidewitches of their own.”