Night had fallen over the Port of Diligence. There was no harbour quite like it, yet, simultaneously, the Port was a perfect blend of them all. The white, southern-Greenlander houses, the lingering heat of Alburkhan, and the green Socotan-like hills rising above the buildings.

All was quiet, too quiet. 

Gentle waves stroked against the hull as a slow-moving towboat guided them to a dock right outside the city walls. Tens of thousands of lanterns and candles flickered in the bay, where dozens of ships, pirate and military alike, laid anchored, their crews restless, as if ready to set out into the darkness at any moment. Flags were flying at half-mast, both at sea and at land.

"Pan, the flags," Alex whisper-barked at Pan, standing in the crow's nest.

It took the white-haired man a moment to stop buttoning down the shirt she had begged him to wear. Then, as the realisation hit him, he sent the Verban and Hristo to work.

A strange shiver ran down her back.

Something was amiss. There was no sign of the industrious nature that had given the Port its name. No ships were being loaded or unloaded by muscular, bare-chested men working themselves to the bone while merchants held shouting matches to sell the most clams, wine, or trinkets nobody needed but bought anyway. The taverns, usually bustling with drunken sailors shooting gold at anyone plucking strings or whistling a tune, appeared closed. Tonight, the crickets chirped, which was a peculiar sight for a city that proclaimed never to give in to the God of Sloth. 

No crowd to greet them at the dock; only a group of hooded men in chain mail coifs carrying long-rifled stood waiting for them. Whether they were Lord Simon's warriors or soldiers of the Port—she couldn't tell—but they were very skittish. Nearly all of them flinched and raised their weapon as Pan hooked one of his belts to the rope and swooshed down to the towboat.

Alex rolled her eyes as he combined his landing with an exaggerated bow. 

"Captain Panu, at your service. How do you wish to proceed with these..." He gesticulated with the belt he was holding... "proceedings?"

She suppressed a laugh. Pan and formal attire were as complimentary as an Ician in Alburkhan. Weapons were lowered, and the bulkiest of the men stepped towards the edge of the pier. They spoke in a hushed, mumbling tone she didn't understand a word of. So much for her plan to brief Lana before Pan could. 

The towboat turned, and around her, the Krakens were preparing the ship for docking.

A carriage, silver or appearing silver in the flickering light stopped at the other edge of the pier. It had a light frame and minuscule windows, resembling a frivolous cage rather than a sturdy method of transportation. One of the two pitch-black horses huffed as the other one neighed; they too were clad in armour.

"This is a country at war," she said to Liene and Lana.

"The city too," Liene murmured. "They're mourning a grave loss. How popular was this General of yours?"

When Lana said nothing, Alex lifted her shoulders. "Here in the south? Not very, I think." 

"So theatrical." Liene scoffed.

"What?"

The scene playing out in front of her answered her question. Pan groaned loudly as the tip of his left boot missed the towboat. He could have waited, but no, he had to jump in from the pier. Appearing unfazed, he dashed towards the back where he ran his sword along the knot connecting the Kraken to the towboat. He pulled the coil twice.

Two older Krakens assisted by Desi and Iavo hoisted Pan back on board.

Alex didn't wait for Pan's feet to touch the deck to shout, "Did you ask what all this fuss is about?"

"No," he mumbled, the lack of care in his voice apparent.

She should have known. All Pan wanted to do was drop Lana off, cash in the promise paper, and then set sail again. Anything that deviated from this goal was not worth spending time or energy on.

"Krakens, listen up." Still holding the rope, he was balancing on the ship's railing. Within two heartbeats, anyone who hadn't been paying attention was facing him. "You know your duties. Prepare our precious beauty for her next sail—it will come as soon as the next wind from the north. Don't dawdle. When all is done, Master Loic and his crew will take you to an inn for a wine and lobster dinner, courtesy of the Lord of this place. Behave... and if you don't, I'll find out, and flog you until you can't sit on your arse no more."

"Double negative, tsk tsk, Pan," Lana said as the Krakens yarr-ed. 

Alex crossed her arms. "Free pass to misbehaviour. You heard it here first."

"A pirate who knows grammar." Liene grinned. "What's next—the Suhrian desert freezing over?"

The women uttered a few forced chuckles like they all sensed it was easier to jest than to acknowledge the anvil of tragedy they would find at shore.

"My Lady," Pan leapt down and stretched out his hand. Plays were usually less dramatic. "You, me, and Boyar Alex have been invited to the Lord's hall."

"I'm delighted," Lana said. More quietly, she added, "My apologies, Liene. Welcome to The Greenlands."

"No apologies needed. This is fine. I'd rather have the lobster and the wine."

"And a poet you are too."

"Gives me something to do." She winked.

As bantering and informal as the conversation between Liene and Lana had been, as stiff and formal was the carriage ride into the city. 

Alex had preferred the company of the women. The bulky man that acted as a guide only asked Pan generic questions about the voyage and the Kraken; he pretended Lana was made of glass, and that Alex didn't exist.

Welcome back to The Greenlands, where men acted as though a woman only mattered if they wished to influence her rich and powerful husband. Alex half expected her invitation had only come because they believed her to be Pan's wife. The Lord better remembered the pirate mercenaries only protected the city because she had introduced the Krakens to King Thomas.

Pan had little to say, and the soldier-warrior type didn't pry. Silence wrapped itself along the fragile-looking carriage, with so many words that could be said, but nobody dared to utter.

Alex couldn't bear it any longer; something was wrong, and she wished to find out now! For Lana's sake. Every few turnings of the wheel, the Princess pinched her bracelet, which she need not do. They were no longer at sea.

"How are things in the north?" Alex asked.

The man's eyes grew wide. He uttered a few incomprehensible sounds before muttering, "It's where the war's at, M'am Boyar." 

Hearing her formal title, she stiffened. She ground her teeth before asking, "Are we winning?"

He darted a skittish look outside, holding the blaster so tight in his hands, his knuckles reflected the light of the half-moon. "The Port holds."

"I'm not interested in The Port."

"Well, it's where you are, M'am."

Subtly, Lana dug her nails into Alex's thigh, so Alex swallowed the snide remark that the country was bigger than just its southwestern tip. She also refrained from asking about the death of a local hero. If nobody wished to talk, then so be it.

Luckily, the Gods blessed her curiosity with a short ride. 

She crawled out the back of the carriage, trailing behind Pan, as a member of Lord Simon's household assisted Lana down.

A handful of armoured men flanked them as they were rushed into the tall temple-like construction that was Lord Simon's Hall. She had been here often enough, even stayed a few nights in one of the many guest bedrooms, but never before did the people around move around as if they didn't wish to be seen.

Both the green sycamore flag and the blue one depicting the God of Diligence with a hammer hung at half-mast. Statues had been moved, and paintings taken down. There was no elaborate banquet waiting for them, nor the typical buzzing and chattering of a party of three dozen smaller lords, ladies, and important Masters seeking favours from their Princess. 

Their footsteps echoed through the barely lit archways as, at the back of the hall, Lord Simon shuffled up from his chair and moved stiffly in front of the table. In his shadow stood the plump, goblin-faced Captain of the south, who seemed more concerned by the tiny silver ships on the large open scroll than with the Lord's guests.

"My dear Lady Alana," Simon said whole-heartedly. His hairline, receding more and more each visit, showed as he bowed. His signature ponytail flopped to the front and back. He, too, wore armour. "I prayed to the Gods for a swift, carefree voyage."

"My cousin's wedding was beautiful," she said, smiling. "And our trip to Socota was interesting, although I wish I didn't have to cut it short, but, alas, such is the way of the Gods."

"Blessed be Their name." The Lord made the sign of the seven-pointed star.

"And blessed are you, My Lord. The way your city honours the late General—it means a lot to me, and so it will to my Mama and Papa."

The man smiled awkwardly. He beckoned the serving girls waiting in the back to move forward.

Captain Oswald pushed the scroll to the side as the first girl offered Lana a chair, then invited her and Pan to take a seat as well. The second girl handed out cups of wine. They walked clumsily, and on second look, revealed to carry a dagger on their thigh, and no amount of frills on their black shirt truly hid the straps of their breastplate.

"To The Greenlands." Lana picked up the cup and held it high. "In honour, of General George."

The men didn't raise their drinks.

"Before we toast, My Lady, there's something I must tell you," Lord Simon said. All colour had drained from his otherwise tanned copper skin.

"Speak up." Lana lowered the cup but held her grip firm around the stem.

"It's the war." The Lord paused to breathe in. "The Silvermarkers—all those skirmishes, they were a distraction from the true evil." He shook his head and sighed. "Reports came in of a man who crossed the mountains, except, he was no man. A vicious monster, or a changeling out for blood, or a red-haired devil. He attacked Sundale."

"One man?" Lana asked.

"Fox," Alex blurted out. That description—he could only be him.

"It was no fox, Boyar," Lord Simon said condescendingly. "Eyewitnesses claim they saw a dragon spewing fire and wind, with a poisonous tongue and sharp claws that tore down the earth from beneath the trees and set them ablaze. There was nothing the guards or the army of Sundale could do. Bullet after bullet and a rain of fire descended on him, but nothing pierced his scales. He bewitched those who tried to talk to him. Iron didn't faze him. Some say the God of Wrath itself blasted through the city. Only a Silvermarker she-mage managed to stop him. They seized the castle and haven't been seen since."

Lana was still holding the wine cup; she hadn't moved as much as an inch. Despite the shock, there wasn't a tremble in her voice as she asked, "How many people fell?"

"Hundreds for sure, though some reports speak of thousands. Many fled, though not all make it. Blood-faced orphans writhing in pain, crying out for their mother or father. Men frantically looking for their family, and women collapsing as they hear of their husband's death. Everyone's tired and hungry, and many more are wounded. Captain Oswald and I are preparing everything to send reinforcements, food, Healers, and everything else the north might need."

"Kindness lives in you, My Lord."

"We're thinking of expanding the city to construct extra houses. As you know, the Port is always welcome to those willing to work for their gold," the Captain said.

"What about His Majesty, and the Queen?" Alex asked. Lana either may be too shocked or courteous, but she wasn't.

Lord Simon averted his gaze. "It is with a heavy heart that I must announce that the King is dead."

Briefly, Lana closed her eyes. She held her head high. "Long live the King."

"Long live the King," Alex mumbled at the same time as the Lord and Captain Oswald. Pan followed a heartbeat later.

The words echoed in the halls. Silence reclaimed the hall before Alex realised it was no longer Thomas who was King of The Greenlands, but Seb.

She found it hard to swallow the wine. Her friend, Seb, with whom she had frolicked and bantered, who she called a Muttonhead without shame or regret, and with whom she had swum but-naked in the River Faith on more than one occasion. They had grown up, and he was now taller than she would ever be, and married too, but he was far from ready to lead a country during peacetime; let alone now.

"And Mama?" Lana asked.

"Nobody has seen her since the attack," the Lord said hesitantly. "She might have died, or she's a prisoner of war. We've made it our priority to send out a rescue mission."

"Don't," Lana said stoically. For a moment, Queen Crystal was sitting in the hall with them instead of Lana. "Your priority should be to help the people of Sundale. Mama is a daughter of Ice, sister to the King of Silvermark. My uncle would never harm her."

"A noble thought, My Lady, but it is not King Storm  who took Sundale by force."

Captain Oswald added, "The dragon magician they speak of—we believe he's your bastard cousin. We doubt a monster like him will tolerate your mother's presence."

So it was Fox.

"If he wanted her dead, she would be," Lana said.

"He might wait for the opportune moment, My Lady," Pan said. Alex shot him a glare more piercing than a blaster shot. He was only here because of his title; he shouldn't meddle with affairs that didn't concern his tight Kraken butt, but if he noticed her stare, he chose to ignore her. "The man's unhinged."

"You know him, Captain?" Lord Simon asked.

"I met him a few years ago in Whitecliff Bay, met his master too. I was still a boy, and my mother ruled over the Krakens. They threatened her, wanted her to provide them passage to the Islands—didn't matter which of the Islands, as long as they got out of Silvermark. When she refused. Gods, what we saw there was magic of a kind even the Silvermarkers feared them. The little redhead sank our ship in a matter of minutes. He killed grown men and women, members of my family. Alex can confirm—she was there with us. The bastard's not from this world. He's a demon born in the fires of the seven hells."

Alex bit her lip. She remembered but fragments from that day, mostly the stab of betrayal when she had learned how Fox worshipped that creep who had set Laneby ablaze. But hadn't Fox just acted in self-defence when Pan had wanted to sell him to the Silvermarker King in exchange for his weight in silver?

That fateful day, Fox had asked her to vouch for him. She could have set her hatred for Katla aside, and taken them far from fragile Silvermarker politics, but she hadn't. Just as she turned her back on Fox when Katla had taken him in Laneby. As satisfying as it had been to watch that creep bleed to death in the arena, he had corrupted Fox, and thus planted the necessary seeds for further insanity. 

All those pivotal moments in her life that had led her here, and Fox to Sundale. She could have made different choices. It might have killed her and Fox, but so be it. The world today would be a better place without him.

"He needs to die," Alex murmured. Except, they didn't hear her; the conversation had already moved on.

"... in your best interest to keep you here in the Port, My Lady." Lord Simon touched his chest. "I won't claim we're free from any threat. You've seen our men, but, for now, the remaining mercenaries have chased the Silver Fleet back north. For which, we are eternally grateful, Captain Panu."

"That's all Alex." Pan gesticulated in her direction. "I have nothing to do with the pirate fleet, nor am I interested in becoming involved, My Lord. My aspirations lie elsewhere." He nodded nervously. "More south."

"Oh, such a shame that you intend to return to the Jade Islands, Captain."

"No, we're heading more south."

"Business in Scoria?" Lord Simon said pensively.

"Even more south."

"That's absurd. There's nothing there."

"Absurd's our middle name." Pan shrugged.

Alex had to resist the urge to smack him. Luckily, Lana was there to save her from further embarrassment. "What is more absurd, Lord Simon, is me remaining in the Port. I'm grateful for your hospitality, but I need to go where I can be useful."

"Of course, but your father wouldn't have wanted—"

"—me to sit on my knees and pray for the war to be over. You're absolutely right, My Lord. Papa would have put me to work."

"There's always something to do 'round here." Lord Simon turned towards his Captain, who was shaking his head. "What happened in Sundale is awful, and the Port will be diligent, and we will do our duty. We must also look at the future, My Lady."

Lana pursed her lips into an o-shape, something she did to appear less knowledgeable than she was. Alex played with her fingers. She had no idea what the Lord was hinting at.

"The Port has always been the second-largest city in the country, the biggest of the south. Let the dragon mage and that she-mage declare themselves rulers over broken stones and ashes. Sundale is no more, but this is not the end. The Greenlands can rise again right here on the shores of the Jade Sea. I would only require you by my side, Lady Alana. Your blessing."

"And my hand in marriage too, Lord Simon?"

The balding man smiled, showing off his crooked teeth. "No, not me, My Lady. Perhaps, my son." Humility was far away.

The God of Wrath had arrived.

The table wobbled, and so did the wine cups, as Alex shot up. "How dare you! You've just informed the Princess that the Silvermarkers took her home, that her cousin killed her father, and that you don't know where her mother is. Thousands have died, yet all you care about is more power and wealth. May the God of Pride strike you down!"

"It may seem that way, Boyar Alexandra," he said dismissively, "but I urge you to sit and think for a second longer—it's the most sensible thing."

"Yes," Lana agreed, which Alex took as a cue to keep standing up. "If you wish to wake each morning with smoke rising in the distance as grey sails surround the city, then you must do so, my Lord. It is not my place to decide the role of the Port in this war, nor is it yours. My cousin is the rightful heir. Write to him in Alburkhan. I doubt he will fulfil your requests, but you can try. In the meantime, we honour the God that blessed this city. Pray tell me, where are the camps forming?"

"The camps, My Lady?"

"The places where our wounded gather, along with the old, the sick, the hungry?"

"The attack on Sundale only happened recently. We expect more news to arrive on the morrow," Captain Oswald said.

"Very well, then I shall take up on your offer to remain here, but only for one night. We shall dine together, My Lord, and after that, I shall pay for a horse, food, water, and weapons. After which I shall take my leave. I will speak highly of Kindness gracing the Lord of the Port. Not a soul will have to know how starved for power you were tonight, that you would rather declare yourself regent than fight for Sundale."

"That was never my intention," Lord Simon said. The reddish blush on his cheeks revealed a different truth. The man had seen a chance and didn't think a lady would refuse him. Typical!

"So who is regent?" Pan whispered to Alex as she sat down.

"I thought you didn't care," she snapped. Ridiculing Pan was easier than admitting she didn't have a clue either.

Tension still hung in the air as they toasted to King Thomas, to the General, and to all those who lost their lives. 

While Alex downed her cup, Lana took slow sips, more staring at the liquid than drinking it. Her strong facade was crumbling. Her grief for General George wasn't over yet, and now she was mourning the loss of her Papa, her father and closest friend. Alex knew she was worried about her Mama, too. Though they fought like air and fire, they needed each other, even if Lana would never admit that out loud.

When she requested to retreat for the night, Alex insisted on accompanying her to her room. She didn't take Alex's arm or hand but walked with steady steps, her head held high and her gaze set on candelabras and covered paintings instead of faces. 

She nodded gracefully as the serving girl showed the room. 

Compared to the captain's cabin, it was a palace. Purple satin sheets and cushions graced the large, wide bed beneath the high window. In the corner, next to a mirror as tall as a person and a case stuffed with books, a marble bath steamed, ready for her to wash away her sorrows.

"We expect your belongings to arrive any moment now, My Lady." She pushed a strand of her curly black hair under her bonnet, waiting for a reaction that didn't come.

"Thank you," Alex said instead. "You may leave."

She nodded before shuffling out.

"So can you," Lana said as she slumped down onto the bed, one leg tucked under the other.

"I can, but I won't." Alex knelt by her side. She touched the Princess' arm. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Lana jerked away. 

Alex persisted. "Hey, it's me, just me. You don't have to be strong for me."

"I know that." The light seeping in through the high window reflected the tears rolling down her cheek. "You're the best friend a princess can imagine. Honest, kind, loyal, which is why I must ask you to leave."

"Why?" Emotion filled Alex's voice. She didn't understand.

"I can't tell you."

"Try me."

"No, you would hate me."

"I would never." Alex shook her head. "It's because of Fox, isn't it? If you resent me for contributing to what he has become, I would understand. I hate myself for it too. I ran when that creep took him. I didn't take his side when he begged for passage to the Islands. My arrows pierced Katla's stinking body. But I will make up for it. I will help you take back Sundale, take back the throne. I will rid this country of every magician, for you, and for Seb. I pledge my allegiance to you."

"Alex, stop. I'm begging you." 

She swallowed hard. Lana didn't beg; she controlled conversations. What was happening? 

"I want to be here for you. Don't send me away, please."

"I must."

A second 'why' lingered on the tip of her tongue, then she realised Lana was Seb's cousin. She wanted to be left alone. A second thought hit her, almost at the same time. She was also Fox's cousin, and cities burnt down when he was left by himself.

"As you wish," Alex said with a slight stammer. She retreated. "I can come back in the morning join you on the journey north. I can fight and keep you safe. You've seen them—The Krakens don't need me."

"The Krakens will need you more than ever. As I have told you before, I have my place in history, and so have you. Take the promise paper, talk to Lord Simon. He's a son of Greed, but he'll give you more gold in exchange for an island bearing his name. It can be a rock the size of his balding head—he'll never find out."

Lana darted a look over her shoulder. Tears were streaming down her face now.

"I wish you were Queen now," Alex blurted out.

"I'm not, and that's alright."

"It's not alright... it's bloody unfair—that's what it is!" The thump of her boots against the floor reverberated through the room. 

Lana merely sniffed and sobbed.

Alex's lip quivered. "Is this goodbye, then?"

"No, it's farewell, Pirate Girl."

Alex's heart broke a little, but she knew when she wasn't wanted. She edged out of the room and didn't look back.

The Kraken set sail at midday the next day. Only the sea understood how she felt, flowing between two countries yet not belonging to any.