“I’d like to submit a request for a license to trade at the port of Bastian.” His voice echoed. “On behalf of my daughter and her ship, the Marigold.” I stopped breathing, every drop of blood stilling in my veins. My daughter. I had never in my life heard him say that word. Saint turned to look at me, his eyes meeting mine. And every face in the room blinked out into black, leaving only him. And me. And the storm of everything between us. Maybe, I thought, he was paying what was owed. Breaking even after what I’d done for him. Maybe he was making sure that there was no debt to be laid at his
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