She had her virtual reality advisors, whom she could consult. Anytime she wanted to access that space, it was simply a matter of thinking the correct sequence. An autonomic system would take over to maintain her body while her mind went elsewhere inside to consult with the personal advisors she had installed herself.

But something about the thought of that just made her feel more tired. They would know what had happened since she woke up in the crate, of course; her mind kept the software updated. But would they actually be able to say anything useful, given the strangeness of this new existence she had been forced into? They were intended for court use, to let her know how to respond to subtle disrespect or maneuvers designed to ratchet one up a social rung or change a title. Not to be aboard a ship of people like this, or even a ship like this. What should she be doing?

They had no way of knowing what she wanted to know most: Why had the Empress sent her to Niko, of all people? Surely there were suitable Paxian citizens that she could have gone to, who would have kept her safe from whatever menace the Empress had sent her away from. That was the crux of the puzzle. She had been addressed to Niko specifically, not the restaurant. So she was meant to do something with Niko? For Niko? Or, more probably, it was the converse of that, that Niko was the one meant to do something for her, which was somewhat comforting in that it pushed the responsibility for everything onto the captain.

This was a test, surely. A prelude to being moved up the ranks, perhaps even becoming a favorite. A test being administered because the Empress understood how special she was. She found herself smiling at the thought.

The bedcovering was thick red folds of living skin, a comforting weight over her body, as though she lay in the heart of a hug made manifest. It clasped around her as she lay there, and it drank in her tears as she cried, analyzing each and trying to extract the flavor of sadness.

“Captain, you have to come see what we found,” Thorn said, appearing in the doorway, his twin behind him, as Niko yawned and stretched and finally succumbed to the urge to rise. Her crew member was bright-eyed, whiskers alert and radiating happiness.

“What is it?” she asked warily.

“Big space for exercising,” he said with glee. “Big big space, bigger than any place I ever been. Space enough to play.”

She raised an eyebrow. Were-lions played rough and hard among themselves. She could see where he was happy to have a place to chase and wrestle with his fellow, but from the way he stressed the last word, she knew it was something much more than that.

She sighed. “It’s come to that, has it?” She dropped her head in mock sorrow.