Elodie didn’t know what to think of that. She supposed that she’d heard occasional stories, more legend and rumor than anything substantial. Besides, the more prevailing wisdom was that the sirens only left dead men, and no tales beyond that. There could be no resulting children.

Furthermore, Captain Hawkins was very much alive. 

But she supposed it might explain a few things regarding what Ventus had told himself and his history—and what she had witnessed with her very own eyes. 

“I don’t know what any of this means,” Ventus declared after a long silence. “But at least we should be safe now, whenever we travel in siren territory.”

“And we did a good thing.” Carina placed a hand on Ventus’s shoulder. “The sirens are meant to be free.”

It was her turn now to look introspective. “The greed of the Empire of Albion knows no bounds.”

She reached for the pendant hanging around her neck, the one that had the arcane symbol carved into it. Only to let go when she locked eyes with Elodie, when she saw her looking. 

“You should go tell the Captain that it’s safe now,” she declared, with an unexpected imperiousness. 

“Aye-aye,” Elodie muttered. 

The rest of the night and into the next day were uneventful. The four of them kept quiet about what the siren had revealed regarding Ventus. And Elodie decided to keep quiet about what Kas had said to her. But after that exchange, she found herself looking his way more than she’d like to admit. 

Of course, she found herself looking to Ventus, too.

And often when she did, their eyes were on Carina. 

It made her wonder if there was someone she wasn’t noticing, whose eyes were turned toward her. 

Elodie thought she would probably be much more observant than the young gentlemen. It was often so, as she’d learned in her tea lessons. When one of the other young ladies like Isabel talked about the young gentlemen they were courting, their oblivious nature was oft-cursed. All while discussing the wandering eyes and who they belonged to for possible signs of a new candidate for a suitor. 

Perhaps that was just the lot of being a woman, Elodie supposed. 

As the sun was beginning to set, the Albatross spotted a sandbar, exposed by low tide to create an island—and already docked there, another ship. 

It was unlike any that Elodie had seen in the marinas of Port Augustine, or even in Libertalia. The structure was a classic, the typical Albionese schooner preferred by the nobility to make their travels. But the entirety of the ship was covered in garlands of flowers with pastel streamers and ribbons, with the sails being curiously pale pink, and not just because of the setting sun. 

Perhaps what made this ship, the Vanity Fair as it was painted in curled letters on the side, even more strange was that on those pink sails, was painted the Jolly Roger in jet-black. 

“Ah, allies of ours,” Captain Jennings declared when Elodie relayed the sighting below-decks. “Go tell Mr. Heyin that we’ll be docking at the sandbar tonight. It’s been a long time since I last saw Molly.”

The sun was nearly in the sea by the time the business was done. But when it was, the crew of the Vanity Fair was already on the sand bar, having started a fire. Elodie was admittedly taken aback to see them all around the fire and to realize—the crew of the Vanity Fair was made up entirely of women. 

And not the rough, wild sort of women like Jade, Captain Jennings, or even Elodie’s own mother. These were women who might wear trousers, yes, but with all the frills, ribbons, and other such trimmings that they could stitch on. They were beautiful, feminine—just like their ship. 

As they initially de-boarded, the young women regarded the mostly-male crew of the Albatross with suspicion, the tension rising until Captain Jennings made her appearance. When she emerged from between the men, the other women visibly relaxed, and one of the women in particular emerged from their crowd to meet her. 

The other women’s frills were nothing compared to what this particular woman was wearing. Her pink coat was a standout, with puffed sleeves, layers of ruffled lace around the hem and the sleeves, and ribbons lacing down the thinner part of the pink sleeves. With her feather and rose-trimmed pink hat, it was clear who exactly was the Captain of the Vanity Fair.

“Ah, Elizabeth!” The woman’s face broke out into a lovely smile, as brilliant as the dawn. “I was wondering if you were still on the seas!”

“You know the sea is my one true love, Molly.” Still, Captain Jennings smiled back. “Your crew’s grown some.”

“As has yours.” Molly’s pale-green eyes fell onto Elodie and Carina, her red-lipped smile curling sly. “Who’s this?”

“Ah, yes, we’ve taken some new crew-mates.” Captain Jennings nodded. “Carina, Elodie, this is Captain Margaret Aubrey. She’s an old friend.”

“Ah, a Manoan girl, you don’t often see those on the high seas anymore.” Captain Aubrey nodded. “And as for Elodie. . . Don’t tell me—is her mother—“

“Keira Fleetwood, yes.” For all the surface cheer, there was a tightness to Captain Jennings’ voice as she spoke the name. “We had a run-in with the Black-Sail Fleet a little over three weeks ago.”

“You have no idea how excited I am to make your acquaintance, Miss Elodie Fleetwood.” Captain Aubrey stepped forward, and with a flourish, extended her hand like a gentleman would to another gentleman. 

Of course, Elodie decided that shaking it was the best course of action—even as her grip on what exactly was happening was becoming more and more tenuous. 

“Your mother’s story, of how she met Captain Vance and escaped her loveless marriage was what inspired me to take to the high seas nearly twenty years ago,” Captain Aubrey continued. “So many of us heard about Keira Fleetwood and Elizabeth Jennings during the trial, and we wanted to be like them.”

Captain Aubrey then leaned in conspiratorially. “The night after the sentencing was published, I stole a ship from my fiancé’s estate and never looked back.”

“Oh.” Elodie recognized the details from a certain story her mother had mentioned once, in idle passing. A young duchess in Albion who was engaged to a count or something like that had stolen a ship and run off not long before the wedding itself was supposed to happen. 

It was a grand scandal.

“My mother heard your story,” Elodie said. “There’s nothing she liked more than a scandal.”

Captain Aubrey’s eyes glowed, with the validation that could only be brought on by her heroine’s approval. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” She paused, tilting her head as she took in both Elodie and Carina. “These are fine young ladies, Elizabeth. I know better than to ask Jade, even if my dear Susanna does tell me that I should try harder to recruit her—but I must ask these two upstanding young gentlewomen—is there any chance I might be able to steal you away aboard the Vanity Fair?”

Elodie heard a sharp inhale behind her, and she found herself looking to Carina, just as Carina looked toward her. 

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Elodie said as she armed herself with her most charming smile. “I promised my mother I would stay with Captain Jennings, in the instance of her disappearance.”

She then looked to Captain Jennings. “Besides, I am indebted to her help.”

“Ah, well, I did hope that one Fleetwood woman might come aboard my ship.” Captain Aubrey shrugged and turned to Carina. “And what about you? I’m sure you have a great many stories.”

Carina looked more uncertain, and yet. . . 

“I’m just a drifter, madam, just passing through.” She held her chin high, straightened her posture as she spoke. “But I appreciate your offer all the same.”

“Well, the offer’s open to any of you fine gentlewomen, should you grow tired of the company of men.” Captain Aubrey winked, then whirled around, holding her hand high over her head. “Well ladies, let’s give them a warm welcome and make merry! Captain Jennings has returned!”

Cheers broke out along the sandbar. 

What pursued was one of the most enjoyable nights that Elodie had ever known. She chatted with some of the other girls her age who were aboard the Vanity Fair, with introductions being made by an all-too-happy Jade. Most of the older men and women talked about trade routes, the sea and such that was the trade of piracy. All the meanwhile, Captain Jennings and Captain Aubrey shared a bottle of rum.

“So where are you headed to next, Lissie?” Captain Aubrey asked after taking a swig. 

“New Aubrais, we’ve got to pick up some more supplies, refresh the water supply,” Captain Jennings said. 

“Well, be careful then, we just came from there and the Black-Sail Fleet is all around the place,” Captain Aubrey cautioned. “But the Manoans there are holding one of their festivals—so it should be a fun time.”

Captain Jennings smiled and shook her head. “There’s always a festival in New Aubrais.”

“Cheers to that.” Captain Aubrey stole another swig before Captain Jennings could have her turn. 

Of course, Elodie was then pulled away by Jade after that to be introduced to Susanna Tyler, a pretty blond girl on the Vanity Fair, and became overtaken by the revelry.

It wasn’t until far later in the night that she spotted Kas again by one of the smaller fires that they’d lit, by himself with a bottle of rum. Which surprised Elodie, as she expected him to be swarmed with ladies, given what Jade had told her.

His eyes lit up as she approached him, and he lifted the bottle. “Want some?”

“I’ll pass.” She smoothed her skirts and sat next to him on the crate. “I would have thought you’d be busy being charming.”

He laughed. “That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.”

“And you’re dodging the question, as always.”

“You didn’t really ask a question.”

“It was implied.”

“Was it, then?” He tilted his head back and smiled fondly at her. “For what it’s worth, I would have missed your banter, Fleetwood, if you’d gone with Aubrey and her crew.”

“Oh.” Elodie found herself blushing again. “You’re awfully sweet, when you want to be.”

“I try to be, when it counts.” 

“It must not count much when it comes to me.”

His expression sobered. “It’s most important when it comes to you, darling.”

“Oh,” Elodie said again, her breath hitched. 

She looked up to the stars for an escape. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.”

When she looked back to him, he was looking at her. And not at all at Carina.