“Captain?” Brek’s voice, muffled through the door. “There’s someone here from the Coastal Trading Guild. Says it’s urgent.”
Aviora looks up from her reports. Her eyebrow arches in silent question.
“They said a few days.” I set down the cutlass, reach for my shirt.
“Apparently they couldn’t wait.” She’s already moving—swinging her legs off the bed, reaching for her boots, transforming from the woman who was wrapped in my sheets to the professional who negotiated circles around Harwin this afternoon.
The transformation takes seconds. I’ll never get tired of watching it.
We descend to the Great Hall together. The Guild representative is young—younger than I expected, a woman with sharp eyes and sharper posture. She stands at the center of the hall like she owns it, and something in her expression suggests she’s not here to renegotiate terms.
“Captain Druger. Miss Larsa.” She inclines her head—respectful, but not deferential. “The Guild has received news that couldn’t wait for our scheduled meeting.”
“What kind of news?” Aviora moves to my side, her shoulder brushing mine. A united front.
“The kind that changes everything.” The representative produces a rolled document from her satchel. “A few days ago, theSilver Fortunewas officially declared a heritage site by the Northern Kingdoms. All salvage operations in the deep channel have been suspended pending archaeological survey.”
“Archaeological survey.” I take the document, scan its contents. “They’re treating it as a historical treasure rather than recovered cargo.”
“The Northern Kingdoms have been searching for their lost tribute for thirty years. Now that it’s recoverable, they want it back—but they want it documented properly. Catalogued. Preserved.” The representative’s sharp eyes move between us. “They’re offering contracts for the work. Substantial contracts. The Guild thought you might be interested.”
“Interested in a government contract.” Aviora’s voice is carefully neutral. “To document the treasure we nearly died retrieving.”
“Interested in legitimacy.” The representative’s smile is thin but genuine. “The Guild sees potential in your operation, Miss Larsa. Captain Druger. The kind of potential that could transform Dreadhaven from a remote salvage outpost into a major trading hub. But that transformation requires connections. Contracts. The kind of official recognition that comes from working with Northern Kingdoms authorities.”
I look at Aviora. She looks back.
A month ago, she was running from debts and curses and the ghost of a lover she couldn’t save. A month ago, I was servingpenance on a coast that hated me, waiting for a death I thought I deserved.
Now we’re being offered legitimacy. Government contracts. The chance to build something that will outlast us both.
“We’ll need to review the terms.” Aviora’s professional mask is firmly in place, but I can see the excitement underneath—the same fierce light she gets when she’s planning a complicated salvage run. “The deep channel is dangerous territory. Our expertise comes at a premium.”
“The Guild anticipated that.” The representative produces another document. “Here are our preliminary offers. We believe you’ll find them... competitive.”
The negotiations that follow take hours. By the time the representative departs—satisfied, or at least willing to present our counter-offers to her superiors—the candles have burned low and the moon has risen high.
Aviora collapses onto the Great Hall’s largest chair, her boots propped on the table, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and triumph.
“Government contracts.” She shakes her head slowly. “Finn would have laughed himself sick.”
“Finn would have been proud.” I cross to her, lift her legs, settle onto the chair beneath her, rest her feet in my lap. “You turned his legacy into something legitimate. Something that’s going to last.”
“We turned it into something.” She sits up, reaches for me, pulls me into a kiss that tastes like victory and possibility. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“Yes, you could have.” I trace the line of her jaw. “You’re the most capable person I’ve ever met. You would have found a way.”
“Maybe.” She leans into me, her temple against my cheek. “But I’m glad I didn’t have to.”
We stay like that for a long moment—breathing the same air, the future stretching out before us like an uncharted sea. There will be challenges. There are certain to be. Government officials who want to control what we’ve built. Competitors who want to claim what we’ve earned. The ordinary dangers of a life spent on the water, where storms and reefs and simple bad luck can end everything in an instant.
But we’ll face them. Whatever comes, we’ll face it the way we’ve faced everything else.
Because we decided to. Because we chose it.
“Come to bed.” Aviora’s voice is soft, warm. “It’s going to be complicated. We should rest while we can.”
I let her pull me to my feet. Let her lead me through the keep’s corridors, past the guards on night watch, past the windows that look out over water that’s finally safe to sail. Let her draw me into our quarters, our bed, the life we’re building one day at a time.
