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"Not bad for a corpse," he shouted across the deck.

I handed Eravic back his sword. "Find me some ale or wine or⁠—"

"Water?" he suggested.

"You are absolutely no fun."

"We are about to arrive at Thrykis shortly," he said quietly. "We need to plan. Now."

We walked along the deck.

"I do not have a plan."

"I can tell," he said dryly.

"The ship will remain cloaked, correct?"

"Yes. That is not relevant."

"It is. I do not need a Vaelor ship getting sacked because of my poorly planned revenge venture."

"I do not even know who we are killing. Avaneer, I assume?"

I leaned over the rail and looked at the undead surrounding the shoreline. "Why are there fewer undead outside of Thrykis than Alarna when Threns are the ones that create them?"

"For the same reason people who visit inns leave their beds a mess while at home the linens are crisp and clean."

"I hardly think that is a thing," I said.

"I have slept in more inns than you."

"I bet," I said, narrowing my eyes.

I leaned against the rail. "Blondes or brunettes?"

He frowned. "We should be discussing this terrible plan that has no plan of yours⁠—"

"Not until you tell me."

"Neither. Give me a cross redhead or a buxom brunette,” he said.

"Buxom?" I said with a frown. He tugged the back of my hair playfully.

"Aye. But I do not mind a little less meat. And I have certainly had a few blondes please me. Never a goldie though."

I laughed. "You had a small taste."

He leaned over the rail. "I will have you know I did not wash my hand for quite some time after that. Slept with my fingers to my nose."

I leaned back and stared at him. "You did not."

"You are not even blushing."

"My husband does worse, I can assure you," I said. Thinking of last night.

He turned to me. "Part of me is intrigued, part of me would rather not know."

"Intrigued?" I said with my eyebrow arched.