The Crimson Sparrow glided through dark water, but the adrenaline had long since bled out, leaving a cold, heavy exhaustion in Pierre's bones. Each step down the narrow stairs into the ship's belly was a conscious effort.
Three people.
Two rooms.
One ship.
The common area was a study in compact utility. A curved wooden table, bolted to the floor, was hugged by built-in benches.
Across from it, the brass fixtures of a small galley gleamed in the warm lamplight, hinting at the expensive craft of the vessel. Two doors led off from this central space.
Alyssa stood before the larger door, her hand resting on the brass handle like she was claiming territory. Her platinum hair caught the amber glow from the oil lamp mounted on the wall, and those pale green eyes held the same imperious gleam they'd carried in the restaurant back in Hotaru Town.
"This is the Captain's Cabin," she announced. "It's my ship. It's my room. I'll be taking it, thank you very much."
