Regaining consciousness feels like floating up to the surface of warm waters. I feel my body gently rocking from side to side. Waning sunlight streams in through an open porthole. I am lying on a small bed, flat on my back. I can feel tingling in all the places I was wounded, the skin sealed shut as the exotic substances in my blood do what they’re made to do. I hear voices, one soft and one shrill, and begin to understand what’s being said.

“…I don’t know the woman, personally, but her reputation for merciful treatment of criminals isn’t the best.”

"Oh, believe me. She doesn’t treat law abiding folk that disappoint her any better," says Arcadia, in a flat tone of voice.

“That’s exactly my point!” Posca shrieks. “Exactly! She’ll have my head on a plate!”

"And she has a fate worse than death in store for me. If you wish, we can part ways in Demeus. They don't know your name. You should be safe if you just avoid Ecean harbors until they forget."

Posca is leaning against the wall of the cabin, his arms folded tight against his chest. He’s practically shaking. “Oh sure, just avoid all Ecean ports. Why don’t you tell me to sail off the end of the world!”

He kicks off the wall, begins pacing back and forth. Arcadia sits at the end of my bed, watching him with an unamused expression.

“I live and die by trade, understand? So tell me, how am I to feed my crew without making berth at any Ecean port? Hm?”

Arcadia opens her mouth to speak, but then she notices me stirring. Her gaze locks onto me, a wide-eyed look of relief on her face. She turns to face me more fully, but her eyes look down at my wounds. "A-Are you okay?" Her voice is much weaker than when she spoke to Posca.

She’s unharmed. Thank goodness.

I smile wearily and slide my hand over hers. “All’s well. Glory to the alchemists of Nar K’zar, a table full of food or two and I’ll be in fighting shape.”

Arcadia flinches when my hand touches hers. Tears well up in the corners of her eyes. "I'm sure I can find something to cook for you."

Her hand pulls away from mine, reaches across her body, scratches her other arm above the elbow. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t let me hold it, and the thought sends a pang of worry through me. I put my hand on her leg instead, squeeze it. She wipes away a tear and looks out the porthole.

Posca tuts. “This is touching, really. But you two have me in quite the predicament. Through absolutely no fault of my own, mind you!” he says, his voice climbing several octaves. “And now I’m on the shit list of the Empress herself!”

Arcadia sighs. She fixes Posca with a surly look for a moment. “I’ll hire your ship, for as long as I need transportation over the sea. Which, given the nature of what we’re doing, should keep you paid for quite some time. You won’t have to worry about money.”

His eyes narrow at her. “That’s all well and good,” he says, a note of suspicion in his voice. “But what about that General fellow? He doesn’t seem like the type to just let things go.”

“He isn’t,” says Arcadia.

Posca nods, frowns. “That’s what I thought. So what do we do when the Imperial fleet comes looking for us? My little corbita can’t outrun a warship.”

She glances out the window, purses her lips in thought. “Follow me,” she says.

Then she stands up and walks stiffly out of the cabin, Posca following behind with a frown on his face. They’re out on the deck of the ship now, and if they’re talking, it’s too quiet for me to hear. But all of a sudden my bed lurches backward hard. The whole cabin does. It would follow that the ship itself has abruptly changed its angle.

I lean up to look through the cabin window, wincing a little at the pain in my left arm. But then I peer out of it and see that we’re far out at sea now. There’s no shoreline in sight. Arcadia stands on the deck, behind the ship’s main sail. She’s holding her arms outward, chanting something, and as she speaks the wind billows into the sail, stretching it out to its limit. It blows so hard that the mast can barely handle it, it’s bent like a sapling as it strains to hold the sail in place.

Posca stands behind her, his long hair whipping around in the wind, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. He appears to be having some kind of religious experience. Arcadia lowers her hands, turns to face him, says a few things while gesturing at the still-billowing sail. Posca nods mutely. He’s still staring up at the sail, his mind going wild with the possibilities. That’s where Arcadia leaves him, her confident expression fading away the instant she's no longer facing in his direction. Her shoulders slump and she tiredly shuffles back to the cabin. I quickly lie down, so as not to upset her.

She reaches the door, but it doesn't open at first. It seems like a minute or two go by before I see the handle turn, then a sliver of light as the door cracks open.

Arcadia steps inside, closes the door behind her. There's a forlorn look on her face as she comes over and sits on the edge of my bed, eyes cast downward.

"I'm such a fool,” she says.

I smile, shake my head. “Isn’t fighting what you hired me for?”

"You would have never had to risk yourself if I hadn't been stupid."

She’s wringing her hands in her lap. I lift my own hand, wrap it around her slender bicep and grip it firmly.

“Look at me,” I say.

She shivers when I touch her, and shakes her head. "I can't."

“Arcadia,” I say, my voice harder. “Look at me.”

And she does. Her arms are pulled in against her body as she twists to face me. And her head doesn't lift all the way, so her eyes are tilted upward to meet my gaze. Light begins to sparkle off those green eyes, from the tears welling up in them.

My grip on her arm goes slack. Seeing her like this forms a lump in my throat, causes a little sting at the corners of my eyes. “We spoke about this already,” I say, softly. “I understand. It didn’t go how we wanted, but we made it out, didn’t we?”

For a moment she just stares, dumbfounded. Then her eyebrows pinch inward as she glares at me, "Why aren't you furious with me?"

"I almost got you killed!" Her eyes close and she hunches forward, hugging herself. "I'd never forgive myself if..."

Her voice is raspy, quiet as she continues talking. "You're the only person who never told me I needed to man up. That made me feel even a little safe to be myself."

"I knew better than to go to that stupid party. I just couldn't wait any longer, to have people see me as I wanted. People that don't know what a disgusting creature I really am."

Finally, her breathing grows still, and her voice smooth. "It would have been better for you if I just ended it at the pala—”

I shut her up by pulling her in roughly, and crushing my lips against hers.

It’s even better than the thousand times I’ve imagined it. Her lips and mine fit together perfectly, I’m in love with them at the very first taste. And I’m in love with the way her shock dissipates, her body melting against mine as she eagerly pushes into the kiss. I’m in love with the little whine in the back of her throat that makes my heart sing. I’m in love with…

I’m in love with her.

Of course I am.

After what feels like an eternity of bliss, but is actually just a few long moments, I settle back against the bed and smile down at Arcadia. Her eyes are still closed, even after our lips have parted, and she’s panting a little. They open slowly, as if she were waking from a dream, and when her gaze meets mine, fresh tears form at the corners of her eyes.

Arcadia surges forward and wraps her arms around my neck, nuzzling at my cheek. Her lower lip brushes against my earlobe, the feather-light touch sending a chill of pleasure down my spine.

"Don't scare me like that again," she whispers.

I hear the cabin door open, Posca muttering excitedly under his breath about being the Captain of the fastest ship in the world. Arcadia blushes horribly and hides her face in the crook of my neck.

I fix him with a look that could kill. “Get. Out.”

He freezes, wide eyed and pale, then quickly closes the door. Good boy.