“Bregon relies heavily on its military and its seafaring prowess to establish its strength. That means the Navy holds huge sway in politics and government. Which brings me to…the Admiral of the Navy, who also heads the Sea Court.” Ramson’s expression had grown carefully blank. He drew a figurehead on top of the Sea Court’s box. “With the Sea Court’s overwhelming power in Bregon’s government and a monarch heavily restricted by a system of checks and balances, that makes the Admiral the most powerful man in Bregon after the King.”
The charcoal pencil dropped from his hand; he shoved the diagram to Ana and stood. “You’ll need to win him over, too, if you want any form of an alliance.”
Ana studied the sketch of the figurehead. “What do you know about him?”
“Nothing,” Ramson replied. “I’ve been away from Bregon for seven years, Ana. What I’m telling you is from what I learned as a Navy recruit.”
“From back in the days, then,” she prompted. “You must have crossed paths with him, or heard things about him?”
Ramson’s face was inscrutable. “I didn’t know him back then,” he said, and moved on to the structure of the Blue Fort.
Ana paid particular attention to Ramson’s lessons on Affinites in Bregon. The magen existed in Bregon, but on a very different level from Cyrilia. They were treated no differently than regular civilians, living in harmony with their communities and towns and often contributing more due to the unique magek they wielded.
Ana felt her stomach tighten at this, and she thought of her own empire, of how corrupt its treatment of Affinites had become. “How is it possible,” she mused, “to create a society of equality between Affinites and non-Affinites?”
Ramson frowned, considering. “Isuppose,” he said carefully, examining his sketches of Bregonian geography and the diagram of the Three Courts, “the Three Courts do have some form of use, after all. For example, a part of the Sky Court’s mission is to protect the balance of our Three Gods. And that means respecting the magen, and treating them as regular people.” He looked up, a sardonic smile playing about his lips. “You know, representation of different people and their rights, all those principles of governance. I guess it’s done something good for Bregon after all.”
“In Kemeira,” Linn piped up, “we have a similar principle. Affinites and non-Affinites live in harmony, relying on each other’s strengths to build a stronger society.” She clasped her hands together, and Ana remembered Linn teaching her this principle. “Yin and yang. Action and counteraction.”
“I haven’t come across these in the foreign policy books I studied,” Ana admitted.
Ramson stretched his arms and leaned back. “That’s because the winners write history,” he said. “Whoever wrote your books probably didn’t want anyone realizing it was possible for people of different kinds to get along.”
This lesson, in particular, burned deep in Ana’s mind long after the lamps of their ship had fizzled out in the night.
Her skills with her Affinity also improved under Kaïs’s tutelage each day. At first, it was strange, sitting across from Kaïs and looking into his face, trying to reconcile the image of the boy before her and the cold-blooded killer she knew he was. And yet, beneath the quiet skies, the billowing sails, and the lapping of waves all around them, Kaïs’s voice was low and steady and patient.
They started off slowly, by learning to consciously recognizesignatures.Each person’s blood had a signature, like their scent, and Ana realized that a part of her had already begun distinguishing between them. The shifting sea-salt and sword-metal scent to Ramson’s blood, the fierceness of fire and rosewater to Shamaïra’s, the calming wind and shadows to Linn’s. She’d picked up on them by accident, in glimpses, but now, she learned to attribute them to every person she came across.
Ana left their first few lessons exhausted both mentally and physically—but she could feel her control over her Affinity improving. In particular, her understanding of the nuances to her power had deepened, as though she were gaining deft control over a limb she had only used clumsily her entire life.
She learned to observe the flow of blood through bodies, to memorize the rhythm, and to merge her Affinity into each and every stream of blood. He then taught her to heal. Not in the awkward way she’d been trying to do it, by clotting blood at the opening of the wound—but truly, completely, to heal from the inside out, like guiding the wayward streams of a river.
And, finally, he taught her to fight. To coalesce blood and harden it, to mold it into blades as sharp as steel.
Something else was improving, too: her relationship with Kaïs. Each lesson consisted of him reaching into her mind and senses with his Affinity, guiding her power. At first, they’d worked together stiffly, she subconsciously fighting against him for control.
But one day, as they ended their lesson and she stood to leave, Ana caught herself doing something she’d never done before.
She smiled at Kaïs.
And he smiled back.
As they drew steadily closer to Bregon, their plans began to come together. They would dock at the city of Sapphire Port, the largest port of Bregon, with the easiest entry rules due to the sheer number of trade ships and tourists. Ramson would see Ana and Linn safely to the Blue Fort before returning to Sapphire Port, where he planned to scour the black markets for news on Kerlan.
On the fourteenth day of travel, they spotted land.
The cry came from the crow’s nest in the morning. Linn had taken to perching there; the winds and open skies seemed to buoy her spirits. “Land!” she called, and it was as though an invisible string had pulled taut on the ship. Daya straightened at the wheel; Kaïs paused in whetting his swords and stood; Ramson sat up from where he lay on the deck.
Ana scrambled to the prow, leaning as far forward as she could, her heart thudding in her chest.
And…there.
The sun had just risen and the clouds straight ahead at the horizon were burnished gold at the rims. And, right beneath, drenched in light, was the faint outline of a landmass, rising from the sea. As they drew closer, Ana saw shapes—gray stone cliffs jutting into the sky, haloed by the light of the sun.
Beneath the cliffs was a scattering of ships out at sea—awide assortment, some of which Ana had never set eyes on—and even more lined up at the docks, a gleaming mass of metal and polished wood.
By her side, Ramson gripped the railing of the ship. His expression had steeled, his eyes taking on a hard glint. “Welcome to Bregon,” he said, and there was no joy in his voice.
