Despite her confident words, I could see concern in Mistress Masterson’s features. She’d taught us with a prim—and often strict—countenance, but the gentleness in her features now showed her underlying affection.

“Listen to what you’re told there and remember what you’ve learned here,” advised the Swan Ridge mistress.

“And don’t talk to the sailors,” said another mistress. “Keep to yourselves, and always go in groups if you leave your quarters.”

She didn’t have to tell us that. The sailors loading our belongings and Jasper’s cargo were a burly, rough-looking lot. I avoided eye contact as they moved past us with their loads. My understanding was that they’d been very strongly warned against socializing with us, but one could never be too careful. Jasper’s eye was on them now as he directed which ships would carry which goods. Between us and his trade, he was certain to make a good profit from this trip, and I thought it a shame he couldn’t use that money to help his son. But from what I’d observed, Cedric was right to guess his father wouldn’t endorse alternative religious beliefs.

Cedric himself showed up near boarding time, running typically late. By then, the goods were on board, and it was our turn. Jasper read our names from a list, indicating which ship we’d take. Our manor was traveling on the Good Hope, so it was a shock when I heard Tamsin’s name read for the Gray Gull.

Even Mira was surprised. Like me, I don’t think she’d actually thought Tamsin would take our fight to this extreme. “Tamsin . . .” she said in disbelief, watching as our friend walked past us.

But Tamsin didn’t look back, and her only pause was to hand Mistress Masterson a stack of letters and say, “Thank you for taking care of these.” Then she continued on. My heart sank as she boarded the other ship. I’d chosen Cedric’s interests over hers, and sometimes, particularly when I had those middle-of-the-night wakings, I’d question if I’d made the right choice.

“She’ll come around,” reiterated Mira as we walked up the dock. She didn’t sound as confident as usual. “She has to. This journey will give her a lot of time to think.”

Our cabin on the Good Hope was small, as to be expected, with six narrow bunk beds. Mira and I were rooming with three other Blue Spring girls, as well as one named Martha from Swan Ridge Manor. She was the one Tamsin had managed a trade with. Our rooms were near those of the other Glittering Court girls, as well as that of Miss Bradley, the mistress from Dunford Manor. She met with us in the small common room we’d be using for our meals, reiterating much of what we’d heard on the docks about where we could go and what we could do. The options were limited, and two months in such cramped quarters seemed like a very long time.

When we finally set sail, we all went above deck to observe. My heart hammered as I watched the lines brought in and sailors at work. I’d done many things as the Countess of Rothford, but never a journey of this magnitude. I’d been on a ship to Lorandy once as a child but remembered little of it. That trip took only a day across the narrow channel that separated Osfrid from its continental neighbor. Beside us, the Gray Gull was also casting off, and I could make out Tamsin’s bright hair among the girls gathered there.

“Did you come from Sirminica by ship?” I asked Mira, suddenly realizing I’d never asked her before. Her eyes were on Osfrid’s retreating shore, and I wondered if she regretted leaving the country she’d taken refuge in.

“Some of it. It’s expensive to do the whole journey by ship, and most of us fleeing the war couldn’t afford it. The group I was with traveled overland and then took a ship from Belsia.” She smiled, struck by a memory. “If you think our cabin’s small, you should’ve seen that Belsian ship. No one even had a bed—we were in the cargo hold. Fortunately, that trip was only a few days.”

I squeezed her arm, realizing I’d never fully comprehended how much she’d gone through. “It must have been awful.”

She shrugged. “It was what it was. It’s the past.”

“And you’re moving on to better things now,” Cedric said, strolling up beside us. His hands were in the pockets of the scarlet greatcoat, reminding me of that night I’d found him in the Alanzan ritual. In this clothing, he looked like a proper merchant or scholar, but the wind wreaking havoc on his hair gave him an untamed edge, reminding me of when he’d spoken of letting his passions run wild. I shivered.

“I hope so,” said Mira. “What kind of room do you have?”

“I suppose you’re staying in a luxury stateroom,” I teased.

“That would be my father. I’m in a cabin like yours, bunking with other passengers.” He nodded toward a group of men on the other side of the deck, their clothing and manners displaying a wide variety of backgrounds.

“Who are they?” I asked, curious as to who else was going to the New World. One man, with black hair whipping in the wind, was studying me. If he’d shaved and put on unwrinkled clothes this morning, he might have been dashing. When he saw I’d noticed him, he gave a polite nod and looked away.

“Mostly merchants. A few adventurers. The ones I’m rooming with are nice enough—terribly curious about you girls, as one might imagine.”

“Any potential suitors?” I asked. “Should I be putting on the charm?”

“I didn’t know it ever went away.” Cedric studied the men a few moments and shook his head. “Well, I don’t think they’re that successful yet. None of them could afford any of you.”

A few girls standing nearby overheard his words and turned speculative gazes to the cluster of men. Maybe this group wasn’t wildly successful, but some of them looked like they were doing well enough with their lives. I could guess my peers’ thoughts. For most of them, coming from impoverished backgrounds, any of these gentlemen would be a great step up in the world. What was in store if the men in Adoria surpassed this?

After the thrill of our departure wore off, most of the girls retired to their rooms. Not long into our journey, some returned above deck once seasickness set in. I felt a little queasy now and then but soon overcame it. Mira never went through it at all.

Miss Bradley preferred we stay down below but didn’t discourage our strolls, so long as we did them in groups. Her biggest concern seemed to be that we apply daily moisturizers to our faces, lest the salt water roughen our skin before we got to Adoria. Mira was particularly restless and hated being cooped up. I accompanied her as often as I could, though I knew she sneaked up on her own sometimes.

“What do you think Tamsin’s doing?” I asked one day. Mira and I stood at the rail, watching the Gray Gull. It was never out of our sight, and I squinted, hoping to catch sight of red hair.

“Making plans,” said Mira. “Sizing up the other girls and figuring out how to best them.”

I smiled at the thought, knowing she was right. “Her rivals are there, aren’t they? The girls who tied her?”

Mira nodded. “Maybe this was all a ruse so that she could spy on the competition.”

“I wish it was.” There was always an ache in my chest when I studied the other ship. It was amazing how much I missed Tamsin’s calculating ways, and the rift between us seemed to overshadow any pleasure I might have taken from this journey.