A Crown Cut with Salt
“Three, no, five, swan!”
Kade’s attention snapped to the door; the heat banked down to purpose so fast the air cooled.
“Close?” he asked, already moving.
“Not yet,” Freckles called, running the word down the companion. “But the wind thinks they should be.”
We went up together. Horizon East wore white like a lie that had waited. Swan pennants. New cut. The farthest ship walked the water like she owned it and brought faith to make it true.
“Admiralty,” Jas said, mouth gone thin. “They brought a sermon and a choir.”
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