Vi looked at the food warily. She had tried some of the doughy bread last night only to have it throw her stomach in full revolt. But the near-constant heaving throughout the day left her exhausted; combined with the hollow feeling in her stomach, Vi felt weaker than she ever had before.
“I suppose it can’t hurt.” She took the food, taking a mouse-like nibble of its edge.
“As long as you don’t throw it up on me.”
Vi gave a small snort of laughter. “I’ll do my best.”
Vi had expected Jayme to leave, but she sat on the deck instead, stretching out her legs. Her hair had been done in a tight coif, identical to how Vi had seen Mare wearing hers. Vi’s own hair was a bit of a mess, slipping from its braids, but they were still tight enough to keep it out of her face—and safe from whateverprojectionsher stomach offered.
She took another bite of biscuit, pleased to find it settling well in her stomach.
“Mare do the braid for you?” Jayme nodded, tearing a hunk of her food. “Glad they’re being nice to one of us.”
“They’re nice enough to you,” she said through her biscuit. “They’re risking their lives for you, after all.”
“Yeah, but not by conscious choice—they don’t know they are.” Vi shrugged.
“Does that make it less of a risk?” Jayme looked out over the deck and Vi’s attention followed.
Two men leaned against the opposite railing, talking. The sun was hanging low in the sky, casting the whole ocean ablaze behind them. A few more milled about the quarterdeck with Mare, Marcus, and Kora. Vi counted ten people in total, including her and Jayme, which meant the other three men were below getting sleep before the night’s watch.
“Don’t let them dig too deep into you.”
“Easy for you to say. You seem to be a natural at this whole seafaring thing.” Vi rested her head against the railing, watching the sea speeding by. TheDawn Skipperwas a nimble vessel, fast as far as Vi was concerned, though she had little to compare it to. She took another bite of her biscuit, mentally willing her stomach to remain calm. She was already feeling stronger.
“Kind of glad I am, actually,” Jayme confessed.
“A lot easier than what I’m going through.”
“They say you should be through the worst of it.” Jayme gave her a pat on the back. “That it takes about two days.”
“Mother, I hope so.”
“I’m honestly surprised you made it this far.” The statement was stripped back and bare—a brutal honesty only Jayme could conjure.
“Really?”
“You’ve lived a life of luxury and safety. I wasn’t sure if you had it in you to cast that aside.”
Vi gave a soft laugh. “Thanks for that.” She took another large bite of her biscuit.
“You can’t blame me.”
“Maybe a little. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Maybe we both still have a lot to learn about each other.” Jayme had a relaxed smile on her face as she looked out to sea. “A bit of salt and distance does us both good, I think.”
“It could certainly be worse.” Vi’s eyes swept across the deck once more, lingering on Kora and Marcus. They were talking eagerly over the map Kora held. A cartography tool drifted over the map, passed from hand to hand as they discussed. Vi had such tools once, when she was still safe and ignorant. “Except for her.”
“She’s not so bad when you get to know her.” Jayme saw what drew her attention. “I found out she’s from Oparium.” Southern port, closest to the capital; Vi visualized it on a map. “On a ship of mostly Western sailors, she has a lot to prove.”
“Shouldn’t someone from Oparium have as much salt in their blood as someone from Norin?”
“You know how the West can be when it comes to outsiders.” Jayme shrugged.
“How every region of the Empire can be…” Vi frowned.
“She says we have another day, maybe two until we’re there.”
