The captain's quarters were fairly plain. The room was larger and nicer than the hammocks everyone else slept in, but compared to the lavish rooms in the castle, it felt too simple.

Antonia sat at a long oak table, twiddling her fingers on her lap. Nema watched the food spread out, expression suspicious as drinks were poured. The captain hadn't wanted Nema to join them, but Antonia insisted. She was glad for it now as Nema pressed her leg closely against Antonia's as a subtle sign for her not to eat yet. It hadn't even occurred to her that the captain might be trying to poison them, but leave it to Nema's paranoia to prioritize Antonia's safety.

"So," the captain said, settling into his chair. He started cutting up his chicken, pointedly eating a piece to appease Nema, who nodded once and began eating. "A princess of Romanov escaped Revolutionaries and is heading to Cambria to learn how to use her secret powers." He took another bite of his chicken. "I must admit I'm surprised."

"Cambria has chosen magic," Antonia said, pushing the meat aside to eat the vegetables on her plate instead. "It's supposed to be the closest to my own-"

"Oh, that's fine and well," the captain snorted. "No, I'm just surprised it's you. Your sister was the sorceress, was she not?" he asked.

Antonia's lips pursed. "With elemental magic, yes." She took a sip from her goblet, letting the fruity scent wash over her. She wasn't sure what about that comment bothered her. That Octavia was still front and center in people's minds, or the fact he spoke of her as if she was dead.

"Fascinating," the captain mused. "And you don't think you're the Reformer?"

Antonia picked up a blue vegetable and twirled it around her fork. "I don't know what the Reformer is," she admitted. "But I doubt it's me. I'm not Htraehean."

Nema shifted. Her eyes were fixed on her food as she tugged absently at her hair. Antonia moved her leg, nudging her underneath the table. When their eyes met, she offered a reassuring smile, and the worry on Nema's face flickered until it disappeared entirely.

"I don't believe the prophecy mentioned the Reformer had to be Htraehean," the captain shrugged and popped something else in his mouth. Antonia licked her lips, fighting the urge to join him in gorging on this meal.

"And how do you know so much about the prophecy?" Nema asked. Her voice was pleasant, but a warning glint remained in her eyes. "You don't appear to be from Htraeh."

The captain swallowed his food, smirking at the question as he settled more into his chair. "This boat has the remarkable ability to sail me to other locations," he said and pointed his fork at Nema. "Am I wrong? You're the Htraehean among us. Feel free to correct me if I'm giving bad information."

A clunk sounded as Nema took a sip from her drink and slammed it back down so water slopped over the edge.

"Nema is Romanovian," Antonia jumped in. Both Nema and the captain turned to stare at her. "...she... I mean, she served in the royal household of Romanov, so..." Her voice trailed off. A long pause followed. "You're Htraehean?" Antonia whispered.

"Don't be rude, princess," the captain said, looking a little taken aback. "It isn't her fault she's an ugly Htraehean."

"I- excuse me?" Nema spluttered. Antonia swung around to look between them. A what? Antonia couldn't tell if this was a joke or not. Nema was many things, but the idea that she was ugly in any capacity was stupid. "By Htraehean standards, I might look a little different-"

"Right, right." The captain waved her away. "It isn't her fault she's unique."

"Oh, you look like a walnut," Nema said, voice somewhere between aghast and insulted. "Leave me alone."

"Have you seen a walnut?"

"I'm looking at one right now."

"Even if it was accurate, it's a poor insult-"

"What is happening?" Antonia interrupted loudly. Both went quiet. A crew member opened the door with more food, but the captain pointed them back out the door. "How-?" she turned to Nema. "You served in my household for years. How are you Htraehean?"

Nema tilted her head, pushing her plate of food away from her. "How does one even define nationality?" she asked. Antonia felt a stab of annoyance at that answer. Wordlessly, she picked up a piece of bread and threw it at her. "...I was born there," Nema said when the bread bounced off her. "I don't even remember it, really. Do you remember what Cretara said? About how she left Cambria because the Htraehean prophecy predicted a war?" Antonia nodded. "My parents did the same thing."

The captain gave a soft 'ooh' under his breath and returned to his food. Antonia raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's just a ballsy decision in Htraeh," he told her. Nema rolled her eyes. "Cambrians don't care if you leave or stay. Htraeheans take it far more personally."

"Thank you, captain," Nema grumbled. "What did you say your actual name was?" The captain made a crude gesture that didn't answer the question. "Never mind. He's right, though," she told Antonia. "A Htraehean prophet said there would be a war between Cambria and Htraeh that would be decided by the Reformer. My parents had no idea how long the war would be, when it would start, or what casualties it would take." Nema bit her lip before folding her hands together and placing them on the table. "The Htraehean government didn't like that. It's a... very religious country. Leaving Htraeh without permission is like abandoning the gods. If we left, we wouldn't be welcomed back."

"You use magic," Antonia said stubbornly. "Everyone knows Htraeheans refuse magic."

"She's a terrible Htraehean," the captain said. Nema picked up the bread Antonia had thrown and launched it at his face. "I could throw you off this boat-"

"You're not doing that," Antonia cut in. "But are you?" she added to Nema. Nema blinked. "Are you a terrible Htraehean?"

"Antonia." She grabbed Antonia's hands. "Look, I was a baby when my family left. I wasn't raised with their gods. My family abandoned the Htraehean religion, and when I came to Romanov, I found Romanovian beliefs were better for me." She squeezed Antonia's hands. "I wasn't trying to hide any of this-"

"What happened to your family?" Antonia cut in. She had always assumed Nema's family had also been druids. Already, her head was spinning. The only Htraeheans she had seen was the man who had kneeled to her after she freed the mermaids.

Overall, Romanov was filled with people who looked incredibly different. It was a tourist spot, a place of refuge for some. Some traits were more prevalent, she supposed. Lots of Romanovians had eyes like Antonia's or brown hair like her father's. Nema not being born in the Romanov had never even occurred to Antonia.

Nema pursed her lips. She went quiet, studying the melting candle in the center of the table. Antonia pointedly cleared her throat.

"They-" she began and cut herself off. Antonia waited, leaning slightly forward. What could be so bad that she didn't want to say it? "I don't really remember."

Antonia couldn't decide if it was a lie. Nema seemed too antsy for it to be the truth, but she supposed if anyone asked about her father's death, Antonia would try to avoid giving many details. The mere mention of it brought a fresh wave of memories.

Leaning back, she pulled her hands out of Nema's. The captain watched them, polishing off the rest of his plate before grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth. Nema gave him a sour look, fingers twitching as she wrung her hands together.

"What do you want?" Antonia asked, turning to him.

The captain took one last pull from his cup, considering that question. "I'm not sure yet," he decided and slapped the table. "Maybe by the time we reach Cambria, I'll figure it out." He stood up, taking off his hat to do a little bow. "Princess," he said and gave a more mocking bow to Nema. "Htraehean," he added snidely.

Antonia narrowed her eyes. "Watch how you speak to her."

The captain raised his brows at that. Antonia was a little proud of her assertiveness as his eyes flicked between them, but he didn't argue. Instead, he gave a derisive snort before rubbing his knee with a grimace and limped toward the door.