She slowed her steps as she approached the familiar lonely corridor leading to the captain's cabin. She took the gentle, graceful steps of the gentlewoman she'd been raised as. They were quiet, allowing her to listen in and survey the situation before she barged in with all the force and tact of a hurricane.

She stopped in her tracks when she heard crying. Not full-on wailing, mind you, but quiet sobs—quite unlike what Alina had expected from him.

She gently pushed open the door to the Captain's cabin. There she saw Nikolai sitting over the map, hands in his golden hair, the Lantsov Emerald in front of him. He was murmuring something to himself, although Alina could not quite understand his words.

Alina stood there a moment, trying to decide what to do when Nikolai finally looked up.

"You shouldn't be here," he said quickly. With a sleight-of-hand he made the Lantsov Emerald disappear from the desktop, and he tried in vain to wipe all traces of crying away. "I suppose you were right—it wouldn't have made a damn difference, if I'd stayed to fight, or didn't? We're all still doomed, under the curse, aren't we?"

"I don't think so." Alina approached behind the desk. "So the Darkling is a cheat? You're pirates, you're not exactly rules-followers anyway—hang the code and rules, isn't that right?"

"We worked so long, we've spent so much time and gold trying to figure out a way around this." Nikolai held hie head in his hands. "They're losing hope, I can tell. I can only hope that maybe. . . "

He trailed off, looking up at Alina. There was a flash in those hazel eyes, a spark of inspiration, coaxing him back to life. Alina could see the wheels turning in his mind.

"Maybe you might hold the key, beyond the blood of Old Starkov and Captain Daiyu." He reached toward her hair, and she let him touch it, let a white-as-moonlight lock fall through his fingers. "He's met you before, he said, and you haven't fallen victim to the curse—and you've been on this ship before, as a child."

Alina's eyes widened, realizing exactly what Nikolai had. "And if I was a child aboard this ship, then it's likely I was never cursed at all, despite growing up on the ocean."

"Aye, exactly." Nikolai leaned forward. "And you were able to draw off the Darkling, like it was the sun in your hands—"

"Not the sun," Alina interrupted, recalling the cool white light that had emanated from her fingertips. "The moon."

Nikolai blinked as he considered her words. Then he looked to his map, tapping a finger against one of his high, clean-cut cheekbones, like princes in the picture books the other children at the orphanage read.

As he did, Zoya came through the doors of the cabin.

"Captain." She nodded, then glared at Alina. "I apologize for her intrusion into your privacy. Would you like for me to remove her?"

"No, I think I'll be alright, but thank you, Zoya." Nikolai smiled. "Would you mind making a note to our navigators and wheelmen? I think I know where we need to go next?"

Zoya blinked—but all other traces of surprise were absent from her face. That one blink was the only sign for Alina that Zoya had not expected him to recover from such a failure so quickly.

"Yes, I think we need to consult with Vasilissa," Nikolai said. "We shouldn't be too far from the port where we can find her."

"Indeed." Zoya paused, glancing at Alina once more, with an emotion that Alina did not recognize. "I'll have a few words for her, myself, that she didn't know this much. Usually she's right about everything."

"Yes, but she's mysterious, that one." Nikolai smiled to himself. "She keeps her secret as well as the sea does. And her secrets are far more valuable, I'd argue."

"Any secret is more valuable than gold." Zoya's lip curled into a smirk. "Gold can only be bought and sold—but secrets are far more versatile. How do you plan to pay for her help this time?"

"I don't think we need to worry about that." His hazel eyes flicked to where Alina stood like a shadow. She too easily knew how to stay still and wait, to truly listen. "Vasilissa is rather like me, I suppose—she values novelty over currency. And I daresay our friend is novelty enough to catch her attention."

"Is she now?" Zoya's tone was flat and cold as she looked Alina up and down. "I rather think it interesting that for a little shadow of a girl who has done nothing, she is suddenly the key to all of our problems."

Anger initially rose in Alina's chest. But as quickly as it had burned, it quelled. For Zoya was right. She had done hardly anything, and the fact that things had not gone badly in their duel against the Darkling was more because of luck and that hidden power than any wit or skill on her part.

"She hasn't done nothing," Nikolai said softly. "She still saved my life—I suspect without her intervention, I would now be a prisoner aboard the Dutchman."

Zoya bit her lip. "I can concede that point, Captain. But we can continue this discussion another time."

With that, she hurried out, slamming the door behind her.

"I don't mean to upset Zoya," Alina mumbled. "She is right—I got more lucky than anything else."

"That might be true, but that doesn't change anything," Nikolai said. "Not for me."

The quiet grew between them for a moment, only the crackle of firelight, the roar of the waves and the shrieking of the sea-winds filling in as a symphony in the background.

"Who is Vasilissa?" Alina asked.

"A witch." Nikolai stood. "She's trained in the arcane arts, mainly as a healer, but she knows plenty of things, has the oddest collection of artifacts and treasures. Nearly the entire Court of Piracy goes to her for help."

Alina nodded. "You think she would help you just because of my powers and my hair?"

"She'd be interested to learn about them, I think, examine it for herself," Nikolai said. "In return, I do think she would help us. That, and my irresistible charms."

Alina snorted. "You're not that irresistible."

He arched an eyebrow. "You couldn't resist coming back for me."

Alina faltered—there was something too serious and earnest to his words, something that made her panic, take a step back and work to deny her own eyes and ears.

"Anyone would," Alina said. "It has nothing to do with you, not really."

She turned away, heading back to her chaise, the one space that was all her own in this strange new world. She could feel his hazel eyes roaming her figure, sizing her up. The thought made her heart beat faster, even if she could not explain why.

"Not everyone would," Nikolai said.

Alina turned around, her white hair flying out all around her, time slowing for just one moment as her eyes met.

"You're right." She thought of her own childhood, of how no one had come for her, in the darkness. She took a trance-like step forward. "And I could have left, I still could leave now—you don't need me now to save you."

Nikolai's expression froze—he did not frown, but there was something vulnerable in his eyes.

"I won't," Alina promised. "Because I owe it to my parents, to help set them free of the Darkling. And none of you deserve to be his prisoners, either including you."

Nikolai blinked.

Then he grinned. "You just might be falling for me yet, Miss Starkov."

Alina rolled her eyes. "I'm afraid I am afianced, Captain."

The light died a little in his jovial expression. "I assume there is no way I could convince you to leave him for a jolly sailor bold?"

"Too easily," Alina mumbled, returning to sit on her chaise. "Perhaps he will be convinced to break the engagement by my absence."

"Not your childhood sweetheart then?" Nikolai joked.

"Hardly," Alina scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "More like a marriage to get me out of the Governor's hands."

"I know what that's like." He leaned against his desk, gripping the side of it for support. "I was supposed to be married off to a Shu Han princess, before I disappeared. Would have secured some alliance or another. Of course, when I went missing, that fell through and some other Ravkan noble had to marry her."

"I'm rather pleased to hear that there is hope for my future, in that avenue at least." Alina smiled—then it faltered as she regarded the Prince of Ravka. "Does the tsar know you still live?"

Nikolai's face darkened. The Lantsov Emerald dropped from wherever he had hidden it in his pockets or sleeves into his hand and he turned it over.

"No, I'm afraid he doesn't," Nikolai said, looking only at the Emerald. "My mother does—and the tsar would have no interest in knowing unless he had no other option."

Alina frowned. "What do you mean?"

He looked at her with a dark mirth. "Surely you've heard the stories, Starkov? Of the bastard prince, son of a pirate?"

"Once or twice," Alina admitted. "But nearly everyone of importance has stories like that told about them."

"But not nearly everyone's stories are true." Nikolai tossed the Emerald in the air and skillfully snatched it back out of the air. "Everyone at court knew it, or suspected—my mother did have a rather close relationship with one of Ravka's privateers."

"I wouldn't know." Alina shrugged. "News takes a long time to make it to the New World, you know."

"Yes, well, everyone knows that I am not the tsar's son, so unless Vasily chokes on his own incompetence, there is no chance that he would care about my fate."

"Oh." Alina leaned forward, moving slowly to stand. Then she reached for his hand, a gesture of empathy from a girl who also had a sponsor and guardian that did not truly care for her fate.

He said nothing, his gaze lingered on her hand in his. Then he smiled—not a smirk, a grin, or some other expression of mischief. But a real, genuine smile that only two people with a connection could make.