Jayln could hear the sound of the fighting. A ballista went off near the cabin with a loud twang and she jumped, futilely trying the door again. Eventually she gave up, spending the time cleaning the soiled floor and angrily flipping through the papers on his desk. Most of it was repeated calculations how long they could last on the food they'd had and maps shaving the planned docking point as close as possible.

She knew he was being reasonable in his own way but she couldn't stand by while he killed innocents. She felt so useless. If she hadn't been seasick she could've stopped this. Fought back and convinced him to approach peaceably.

Naïve. Weak. Inexperienced.

Jayln could hear his sneer and she shook the voice out of her head. She'd slipped for a moment and he'd walked all over her. Could she keep doing this?

Finally, after hours of waiting, the door opened and an exhausted Fenrin slipped inside. He glanced at her for a moment and then took two steps and fell onto the cot.

"I'm only here for the bed," he muttered through the pillow.

"Get up," she hissed, her voice shaking with rage.

He didn't move though his amused voice drifted up. "Or what?"

She took a deep breath. "Or this is over right now."

After a long second, he rolled on his side, his eyes dark and dangerous. "Do you really want to do this now? After you got what you wanted?"

"What I wanted?" Her voice rose and her fists clenched. "I didn't want this. I didn't want you to break your promise."

He shot up much faster than she thought his tired frame was capable and stepped forwards, towering over her. "I didn't break my promise," he hissed, "I've followed every stupid rule, listened to every request."

She fumbled for a moment then shot back. "So the other ship is sailing beside us then? The passengers safe?"

"No." he said simply. "I gave the orders but I didn't touch anyone. They're dead and we have enough food to make it to shore with fat happy children in tow."

She held her clenched hands between them in frustration. "Don't you see how wrong that is?"

The back of his hand came flying at her face. She raised her arms and blocked it but the force knocked her onto the desk, one of the sharp instruments cutting her elbow and flecking blood onto the papers.

"Don't you see how there was no other choice!" he shouted at her, his eyes wild. "Don't you think I've seen this before? When I was six I was pounding the drum myself, my stomach more empty than anyone else's. Imagine how I dreamed we'd catch a ship so I wouldn't starve to death on my first time away from home."

She stared at him, his face twisted with emotion. Fenrin took a step back. "I know how these things go. If you can't learn to trust that, then this was all a waste of time."

He left, slamming the door behind him and leaving Jayln stunned and pinching her bleeding elbow. Anger still simmered in her stomach, but slowly her breathing slowed and her face turned thoughtful.

She turned their conversation over in her mind again and again. Her father had always said you couldn't make peace without understanding the other party's view. So, she tried to understand Fenrin.

As captain he knew that they could only afford to feed those who could make it to shore. It was a basic rule for survival. They could have made it without three more mouths to feed.

There was no absolute need to waste precious energy chasing a ship that they might not catch but he'd done it. Maybe it was greed or instinct, but maybe, just maybe, it was because it was the third option she'd asked him to find.

e'd pulled the oars alongside his men and when they reached the ship, he'd kept his promise—albeit she didn't see much of a difference between killing someone and ordering someone else too. But he did. He could have fought as well, but he hadn't purely because he wanted to keep his promise to her. Twice he had mentioned the trust, or lack thereof, between them. He'd said he couldn't trust her to trust him. That she was a liability.

Lastly, Jayln couldn't get the picture of a small boy trembling where Anwen had stood stoically. Pounding the drum thinking he was going to die. With guilt she thought of her own childhood, her loving parents and generally peaceful village. Everyone in the village would die before letting a child starve. To not do so was so foreign to her...and so personal to him.

Her pride was still too damaged to conclude her thoughts so instead she lay down and let herself sleep.