Raven spotted Alyssa's return from the guest wing's balcony, where she'd been pretending to study the harbor's layout while actually counting guard rotations. The princess moved differently now—her shoulders carried a weight that hadn't been there this morning, and her usual perfect posture had developed a slight slump. The emerald dress that had looked so confident hours earlier now seemed to hang on her frame like expensive armor that had failed its first test.
When Alyssa reached the sitting room, she dropped into a chair, staring at the unopened purse in her lap. Her pale green eyes held the hollow look of someone who'd just discovered their safety net had been cut.
"Let me guess," Raven said, not looking up from her navigation charts. "Your money's no good here."
"Script only." Alyssa's voice came out flat. "Earned through labor contracts with Valerio's enterprises."
Raven suspected as much—too many things about Porto Veloce's economy hadn't added up during their arrival.
