After unfurling her spyglass, Vivia scanned her gaze over the gravel beach and cliffs that surrounded the Iris. Everything looked as she remembered it, and in some ways, that was a comfort. The world here remained dead, outside of time. The same wasteland she’d always told herself she wanted no part of. This was where Merik had grown up, free on the Nihar estate several miles inland, while Vivia had been trained, groomed, molded into the queen her father wanted her to be.

Or the queen she’d thought he’d wanted. As Noden would have it, he’d only ever wanted a sycophantic pawn. Someone to tend him and flatter him. To obey him and mimic him. Share the glory, share the blame, he’d always said, but it had been a lie. Give up the glory, take all the blame was the truth Vivia now saw.

It was also where Merik’s ship, the Jana, had been blown apart by Baedyed seafire. Everyone had thought he’d died; only Vivia and Cam knew he still lived. Remnants of the Jana lingered in the cove: charred wood, shredded sail cloth, and old caulking.

“Your Majesty.”

Vivia lowered her glass and found Cam beside her. He smiled his sunny smile as he popped a bow. “I delivered food to the captain’s cabin—and the Empress too.”

Of course she’s in there, Vivia thought with a sigh. She could no more escape Vaness than she could the Hagfishes. “Thank you, Leeri.” Vivia clapped him on the shoulder; his smile widened. Then she strode for her cabin, adjusting her cuffs, her collar, her salt-crusted hair as she went.

She found the Empress standing at a window when she marched in. Vaness’s cheeks were no longer pale, her posture no longer weakened, but there was a dullness to her eyes.

“You,” she declared as soon as she saw Vivia, “must be cleaved. What you just did…” She shook her head. Her hair, damp against her skin, swished with sea-spray curls. “We could have died.”

“But we didn’t.” Vivia shut the door behind her. “Would you like to eat?” She motioned to cheese and old bread that Cam had laid upon the table. A solid snack for a ravenous Tidewitch.

Vaness shook her head—and Vivia desperately wished she hadn’t. She was half starved, but the thought of eating alone while Vaness watched on … It felt awkward. Filthy. Brutish next to Vaness’s tiny, ever-graceful frame.

Noden curse her. She’d come in here expecting a fight. Not whatever this was with Vaness leaning against a window, her forehead pressed against the glass.

Vivia’s stomach growled. She swiped up a chunk of hard goat’s cheese. No regrets, keep moving. Yet before she could stuff it back like the beast she was, Vaness asked: “Why are there so many dead birds?”