“You’re dodging my question.”

   “Because you’re not asking the right one. Why is Kent hiring security? It’s important.”

   His avoidance irritated me, but after a moment, I recognized what he was hinting at. “Because pirates are raiding his caravans . . . that’s weird, isn’t it? His caravans travel by land . . . so why would he mention pirates?”

   “Exactly. You need to understand how this works in Cape Triumph. Pirates were an early problem in all the Adorian colonies. Most of the military sent over was used for ground campaigns against the Icori. The ocean was left wide open. And once trade really started booming between the colonies and Osfrid, all these fat ships full of treasure were just waiting for some enterprising man to snatch. And there are always men like that.”

   “You said it was an early problem. Doesn’t it still happen?”

   “Sure. But the royal navy has more of a presence now. They patrol the coasts. Lots of merchant ships arm themselves or hire mercenary escorts. The pirate trade dwindled, so some of them moved to land.”

   “Wouldn’t they be called brigands then?” I asked. “Thieves? Bandits?”

   “You’d think so. But they still claim piracy as part of their identity. And there’s more to that. Some of them have become local celebrities. They wear masks and take on flamboyant personas. Everyone knows their names and tells stories of their courage and cunning.”

   “Theft is courageous and cunning?”

   He rolled his eyes. “It is by the time these stories get around. Most of their raids are done against native Osfridians, the fat and the rich ones. Your average working colonial won’t get too upset by that. They don’t really see those kinds of people as ‘real’ people, and everyone likes a little challenge to authority now and then. From there, all it takes is these so-called pirates tossing a few coins someone’s way—to a sick old man, a hungry kid—and suddenly they’re heroes. No one’s going to turn them in.”

   “But their victims are real people. Just look at Mister Kent,” I said indignantly. “He’s very real.”

   Grant returned to gazing at the sea. “Not to them. He’s just another payday to them. Law enforcement’s sketchy there. The militia does some of it, but for a lot of people, these pirates are the closest they’ve got to justice. And if that wasn’t enough, Sir Ronald’s certain the traitors are buying stolen goods from them, making the trail harder to follow.” Grant returned to gazing at the sea. “I’m sure Silas would kill to have eyes and ears hidden in that circle.”

   “Any chance the pirates will come to Glittering Court parties?”

   “I wish. I’m sure they’d be impressed by your knife.”

   A few other Glittering Court girls had emerged for strolls, and I took a few steps back. “Time for me to go. You know, they all think you’re a brawler after they saw what I did to your face.” It had long since healed, but I felt he deserved a reminder every once in a while. Even scratched, his face had maintained the rough-edged good looks I’d found so enticing when we’d set sail. But the more I dealt with his trying personality, the harder it was to imagine him as the hero of some passionate whirlwind affair.

   “Wait. Mirabel. Before you go . . .” Grant didn’t turn around, and I heard an uncharacteristic strain in his voice. “You’re right. Sort of. I can talk to women without offending them. Sometimes I can make them like me. Am I the best at flirting? No, but I don’t have to flirt. You do.”

   “That sounds a little hypocritical.”

   “Because it’s a lot hypocritical.”

   “You’re honest, I’ll give you that.”

   He turned and met my eyes. “I have to lie for a living to complete my jobs—and to stay alive. But if we’re working together, and you’re around me—the real me—then I will always tell you the truth. I don’t like to waste words. If there’s nothing to say, I usually won’t say it. If there’s something to say, then I’ll tell you what I’m thinking. Often with no filter. But it will be the truth.”

   “Okay,” I said, a bit taken aback by his intensity.

   “And I’m telling you, for this case, there’ll be times you’ll have to do a little more than rely on your looks. I’m not asking you to go to bed with anyone. But make sure you know how to use those looks. These traitors we’re dealing with may be crafty, but even a brilliant man will get stupid with a pretty girl. And almost all of them will underestimate you. If you let them have a few drinks, boost their egos, smile in the right way . . . well, you increase the odds that they’ll start thinking more about how they want to sleep with you than about the information they shouldn’t let slip. That’s what flirting’s for.” When I didn’t respond, he asked, “Do you get what I’m saying?”

   “Of course.”

   “Of course?”

   I couldn’t take pleasure in his surprise. I was lost in the past, lost in memories of conversations I rarely let surface. Conversations very similar to this one.

   First: It’s a little skin, Mira. Just enough to throw him off so we can learn their plans.

   Later: He’ll put his arm around you, maybe kiss you, but don’t think about it. Turn off your feelings. Remember this is for the greater good.

   And then: Men can say careless things when they’re in bed. I know it’s asking a lot, but think of it as using a tool. A weapon, even. It might be uncomfortable, but you won’t be in any danger. People are giving up their lives for this cause. Can’t you give up your body—just for a short time?

   Finally: You’re a coward, Mira. You have to learn to make tough choices. My mind dragged itself back to the present. To finding my brother. I met Grant squarely in the eye. “I’m not stupid. We talk about locks and codes, but I know that’s not what you hired me for.”