After the storm, the sea had stilled to a black mirror – water so deep and still that the reflection of clear blue sky seemed almost to hover above the surface, the depths perfectly impenetrable. The sails had sagged – lungs between breaths – and the Nauts had surrendered to exhaustion after their fight against the weather.

At least, to begin with. The stillness had stretched a day and a night now and though the Nauts seemed unconcerned by the lack of wind, a restlessness had begun to stir amongst the ship's inhabitants.

"There should be a way," Constantin said, idly swirling his ale around the bottom of his cup, "Of smoothing out the weather somehow. If we could combine this stillness with the storm, then we'd have enjoyed two days of perfect sailing…"

Vasco smiled, "If you find a way, you'll be a rich man."

"If you find a way quickly, I think your cousin will be a happy woman," Kurt muttered through a grin, then found himself damp with the dregs of water from De Sardet's cup.

"Unkind, soldier!" she crowed, but there was levity in her voice and she swatted at him fondly. He bumped his shoulder against her and winced at himself inwardly – he was behaving like a fresh recruit, besotted and hungry for any touch.

Vasco turned to De Sardet, pity in his eyes.

"You're not at home at sea, m'lady?"

De Sardet shook her head and gestured their surroundings, "It's beautiful out here, but it's no secret that I'm not exactly at ease. I had hoped my apprehension would have dissipated by this point in the journey but the idea of spending any time below deck still fills me with dread. But then, Captain, I've never really felt at home anywhere…"

"Not even with me, Sweet Cousin?" Constantin wore an expression of mock hurt and De Sardet stroked his face with the same pantomime exaggeration.

Kurt remembered the way those slim hands had felt clutching his sleeve during the storm.

"That's not to say I've felt uncomfortable everywhere I've been – least of you, Constantin," De Sardet clarified, "But Home… that's something I struggle to identify with."

"Do you think you'll find it on the island?" Vasco asked.

"I certainly hope so. I don't plan on ever making this crossing again unless absolutely necessary."

Kurt watched as the captain and legate seemed to come to some sort of agreement – her feelings about the voyage seemed to close avenues between them whilst the understanding opened new ones. The captain's body language shifted ever so slightly and Kurt knew in that moment that Vasco's relationship with De Sardet had fundamentally changed in nature.

It was true then – a sailor's first love would always be the sea.

"Have you a fiddle, Captain?" Constantin asked, suddenly.

"You're not going to play, are you?" Kurt asked, "You forget I know exactly how little you practised your fencing – to neglect a fiddle in that way-"

"He's not actually bad," De Sardet conceded, "He found it a useful skill for serenading unsuspecting ladies."

"I was rather thinking you might play, Cousin. You were always so gifted at everything you turned your hand to-"

Both Kurt and De Sardet laughed in tandem.

"I think the ale has gone to your head, Constantin. Or you have a very poor memory. You don't recall my mother's salon where each of the children were expected to perform a song and I was the only one asked to stop? Music is not something in which I'm gifted."

"I remember it," Kurt laughed, "Your mother started timing her salons so that they coincided with our sessions. She paid me to keep you there for as long as I could."

"I shan't hear a word of it!" Constantin cried with the same artifice of dismay as before, "My sweet cousin was always so talented at everything she turned her hand to."

"I was good at moving, and at talking," she smiled, "Which is why your father rarely caught us."

"Then the prince should play and the legate should dance," Vasco smiled, producing a fiddle from… where?

"Quite impossible," De Sardet said, "Dancing requires a partner and unless the captain has a knowledge of Alliance courtly dances, I fear there isn't an eligible one for a few hundred miles."

"You should teach Kurt," Constantin laughed, "He's spent enough time in ball rooms without dancing over the years."

Kurt could feel his face grow warm as he shook his head, "Aye, and I'm happy with that. You can't dance and hold a cup."

"You can if you dance like a Naut," Vasco said, "Shall I should you?"

"You can show me," De Sardet said with something that resembled triumph, standing and stripping off her doublet. Kurt turned away – the sunlight shone through her linen shirt to reveal stays and a chemise beneath.

Constantin was tuning the violin – definitely a violin in the hands of the prince's son and not its informal, friendlier counterpart – and Kurt could feel a rising panic as a number of Nauts drew round. Some had whistles and drums.

De Sardet stood across from the captain and bowed, then Constantin played the start of something sombre which sounded a little like a Theleme hymn. And whilst Kurt was impressed with how technically good he was, it was absolutely the wrong choice of tune. The captain laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, m'lady, I'll have to sit this one out. Your cousin can only play funeral songs," a wild cheer from the other sailors, "so I'll take the fiddle on this."

De Sardet pouted until a short woman stepped up into Vasco's place. Other members of the crew peopled the deck around them. Then the captain made the instrument play a glorious chord and everything happened at once.

Constantin had been right when he'd said Kurt had been in many ball rooms and danced in none, but even if he had danced every night, nothing could have prepared him for the furious spins and stomping and joyous yells which filled the deck with bright and glorious life.

And De Sardet was in the middle of it all, her slightly shorter partner leading with a strong arm around the legate's waist. Clumsy for the first few turns until she found her feet, but she was right – she was good at moving – and within a few rounds, she'd found her rhythm and kept pace with the others on the deck.

Constantin watched the captain's digits across the fingerboard with a concentration that Kurt had never seen before. He was focussed solely on the fiddle – and it was a fiddle again, in Vasco's hands – that he somehow drowned out the impromptu party that surrounded him.

The song and the dance was repetitive – the same notes played in sequence, speeded up as things progressed until finally, the captain finished on a shrill note and all the dancers bowed and clapped, breathless and joyful.

De Sardet's partner bowed gracefully to her and this time, the legate curtsied.

She caught Kurt watching her then.

"I think I've got it, captain. But might we go again? I must teach my guard."

"Not a bloody chance," Kurt said, trying to feign indifference.

He felt that stinging conflict again – the desire to touch her at odds with not wanting to be discovered as a filthy old man.

"I'll play again," Vasco said with a smile, "Then perhaps the prince can try and redeem himself!"

A Cheer went up from the crowd and the legate crossed to where Kurt remained seated. She offered her hand – that same, slim hand that Kurt had been jealous to see on Constantin's face – and Kurt couldn't help himself.

"You'll get it," she whispered to him, as the captain played an introduction, "You're good at moving too…"

And they were off, swirling and stamping and she was right – it was easy when he surrendered to it. He'd gripped her gingerly to begin with – right and proper – but as they moved, he found it was impossible to do anything but cling tightly to her waist.

Their eyes locked, and behind her, Kurt could see the sail take a deep breath in.

Everything clattered to a halt and a handful of the Nauts ran to fix the sails. Vasco was on his feet, shouting orders. He pushed the violin at Constantin and set to work, clapping both De Sardet and Kurt on the shoulder as he passed, "Well do it properly in port, Your Excellency. We'll show you how the Nauts celebrate a safe crossing!"

"And you'll dance with me then, Kurt?" she asked, softly, turning her attention to him.

Kurt noticed then that the rest of the dancers had disbanded. Only he and De Sardet remained entwined. They both blushed and stepped back.

"Looking forward to it, Greenblood."