Florence smirked at her reaction. "Eat something, Banner. You’re looking paler than usual."
Vivienne sighed in agreement as they continued walking. "This might be rude to ask, but?—"
Florence raised a brow. "I get the sense that’s never stopped you before."
"Fair enough," Vivienne gave a small nod. "I can’t place your accent. Where are you from?"
“That’s it?” Florence breathed a chuckle. "Tecendria. Grew up outside Ilvaros."
Vivienne mapped the northern continent in her mind. "Did you speak Castavellan?"
"Marinel. A coastal dialect from Ilvaros. Sailors and working-class folks."
No wonder Vivienne only caught every other word. She had only trained in noble and scholarly Castavellan. "How’d you end up in Fendwyr?"
Florence’s narrow jaw locked. "There was an…incidenton my last ship."
A frown tugged Vivienne’s face. "What kind of incident?"
"One of the officers was a disgusting excuse for a man. The bastard had been harassing the women on the ship. One of my gals came to me in tears. She said he’d tried to force himself on her and… I snapped." Florence’s voice was flat, but fire lit her hazel eyes. "He went out alone one day. I fired a flaming arrow at his rowboat, which I’d already packed with gunpowder and a drop of everburn."
Vivienne swallowed hard. She underlined her mental note about never getting on Florence’s bad side.
"After the explosions, there wasn’t enough left of him to bury," Florence continued. "The crew refused to snitch, but I was relieved of duty anyway. The same week, Captain Garrett came through Ilvaros. He heard about my…anticsand hired me. I’ve been with the Zephyrus ever since."
She’s terrifying. It’s magnificent.
Vivienne stumbled through a phrase in Castavellan. "E buen viento a concherte mais da yuste."
Florence cocked her head, then grinned. "Muito buen. Nice to learn more about you too, Banner."
It was the first time Vivienne had seen her smile, and honestly, she was okay for it to be the last. Florence was unapologetically herself and lived according to her terms. Vivienne envied her for those skills she’d yet to develop.
With a flick of her wrist, Florence produced a quillon dagger as if from thin air. "Take this, Banner. Can’t be unarmed on the islands."
Vivienne slid it from the sheath, marveling at the slender, razor-sharp blade, the black leather-wrapped hilt, the engraved cross-guards, and the deep green gemstone set in the quillon.
"It’s beautiful," she whispered. "But I don’t know how to use?—"
"Sharp end goes in your enemy. End of lesson," Florence waved a hand.
Vivienne smiled. "Thank you."
"That’s enough girl talk for the next few months," Florence muttered.
"Unless we’re assigned to the same exploratory group."
Florence groaned. "Dejialo repuesar."
Let it rest.Not one of my strong suits,Vivienne admitted.
* * *
The group pressed deeperinto the rainforest, the thick canopy muting the sun’s light as they moved toward the ruins. Vivienne walked near the front, Cirrus beside her with the map she had added to during their scouting excursion. Lewis trailed behind, keeping spirits high with quips that sent nearby sailors into bursts of laughter. The crunch of leaves and the steady rhythm of boots on damp earth marked their progress.
Captain Garrett led with a sharp gaze, scanning the trees and undergrowth for any sign of danger. Dr. Mercer walked near the center of the line, ready to tend to any injuries. Most officers had remained at camp with the larger part of the crew, guarding supplies and continuing foraging efforts.
At the rear, Commander Thorne maintained a watchful presence, his voice carrying above the jungle’s hum. “Keep a tight formation! No one wanders off.”
