She picked up a berry, holding it before her. “Saint.” The sound of my heart pounded in my ears, my fingers gripping the handle of the cup tightly. Clove leaned both elbows onto the table. “What do you want with Saint?” “The same thing I wanted from Zola. Restitution. My daughter died on his ship and he’ll be held responsible. He’s expected at the Trade Council meeting in Sagsay Holm. I want you to make sure he doesn’t make it.”
