“Why? Is something wrong?”

For the first time, the girl spoke in her own voice, not a parody of an adult's. Oddly, it made her seem more mature. The sudden fear in her voice and eyes went to Brashen's heart. He stood tongue-tied. He didn't want to lie to her. He didn't want to burden her with the truth without her mother or aunt to help her absorb the blow. He turned his hat in his hands. “I think we had best wait for an adult to be here,” he suggested firmly. “Do you think you could send a lad to find your mother or grandmother or aunt?”

Her mouth twisted, and he almost saw her fears turn to anger. Her eyes glinted with anger as she crisply replied, “I shall send Rache. Wait here.”

With that command, she marched away and left him standing in the doorway. He wondered why she had not simply summoned a servant to carry the message. She had answered the door herself also. He ventured a few steps further into the once-familiar room and peered down the hall. His quick eyes picked up minor signs of neglect there also. He cast his mind back to his walk here; the carriageway had been littered with broken branches and unraked leaves. The steps had been unswept. Had the Vestrit family come on hard times or was this just Kyle being tight-fisted? He waited restlessly. The evil tidings he was bearing might be much graver than he had first imagined. The capture of their family vessel might spell their ruin. Allheal he thought fiercely as if he could summon her by will alone.

The Springeve was anchored in Bingtown Harbor. They had arrived in port today. As soon as the ship was secured, Finney had sent Brashen ashore. Finney supposed he was arranging for a buyer for the best of their loot. Brashen had come straight to the Vestrit's home instead. The portrait of the Vivacia was aboard the Springeve, mute evidence that what he said was true. He doubted they would demand to see it, though Althea would definitely want to reclaim it. Brashen was not sure what Althea's feelings for him were right now, but she would know he was not a liar.

He tried to push thoughts of Althea away, but once turned to that topic, his mind refused to give it up. What did she think of him? Why did it matter so much to him? Because it did. Because he wanted her to think well of him. They had not parted well, and he had regretted that ever since. He didn't believe she would hold his rough jest against him when they met again. She wasn't like that; she wasn't some prissy female to take grave offense at an awkward joke. He closed his eyes a moment and almost prayed he was right. He thought more than well of her. He thrust his hands in his pockets and paced a turn around the hallway.

ALTHEA STOOD IN AMBER'S SHOP, IDLY RUNNING HER HANDS THROUGH A basket of beads. She fished one out at random, and looked at it. An apple. The next was a pear, and the next was a cat, its tail curled around its body. At the door, Amber bid her customer farewell, promising that she would have his selections strung into a necklace by this time tomorrow. As the door shut behind him, Amber rattled a handful of beads into a small basket, and then began to restore the rejected wares to their shelves. As Althea came to help her, Amber picked up their earlier conversation.

“So. Naria Tenira will confront the Bingtown Council about slavery? Is that what you came to tell me?”

“I thought you'd want to know how persuasive she'd found you.”

Amber smiled, pleased. “I already knew, of course. Naria told me. I scandalized her by saying I wished I could be there.”

“The meetings are for Trader folk only,” Althea protested.

“She said the same,” Amber replied affably. “Is that what brought you here so swiftly?”

Althea shrugged. “I hadn't seen you in awhile. And I couldn't face going home to the accounts or to Malta. Someday, Amber, I'm going to shake that girl until her teeth rattle. She is so infuriating.”

“Actually, she sounds as if she's a lot like you.” At Althea's outraged glare, Amber amended, “As you would have been if your father had not taken you to sea.”

Althea observed reluctantly, “Sometimes I wonder if what he did was kind.”

It was Amber's turn to be surprised. “Would you have it otherwise?” she asked quietly.

“I don't know.” Althea ran her hands through her hair distractedly. Amber watched in amusement.

“You're not playing the role of a boy anymore. You'd best smooth out that mess you just made.”

Althea groaned, and patted at her hair. “No. Now I'm playing the role of a Bingtown woman. It's equally false to me. There. Does it look all right now?”

Amber reached across the counter to push a lock of Althea's hair back into place. “There. That's better. False, how?”