London, England

Sophie, dressed as a Proper English Lady, walked into the old tea shop. The smell of black tea washed over her as she took in a wall covered in tins of tea, then sacks of tea against the far wall, a counter between her and all that, and half a dozen tables for people to drink tea at between her and the counter.

The tables were all empty save one, where two women sat gossiping over cups of tea. Sophie counted three workers and two birds that looked in her direction. She walked to the counter, twelve paces, and ordered two cups of tea. Being assured it would be right out, Sophie went to the table furthest from the gossipers.

Louis strolled in at that point. He looked like a respectable man, with a cane and top hat. Having nothing else to watch, Sophie saw him wander over to the counter and flirt good-naturedly with the woman. His rather sailor-y accent had somehow changed to be a bit more… London. He ended up purchasing two tins of tea as well as a cup to enjoy in the shop. Then he sat down at the table next to Sophie's and opened a newspaper.

The woman was just bringing over Sophie's tea when a man walked in. He was young, tall, blonde, with blue eyes that held nervousness.

Sylvester saw Sophie and smiled, straightening up.

Sophie couldn't help herself. She jumped up and tackled him in a hug. He laughed, hugging her back briefly before pushing her away, glancing warily at the other people in the shop.

"I got you tea," Sophie said, moving to sit primly in her chair. "Your least favorite type, made sure it was well over-steeped, and all they have is lemon. Enjoy!"

Sylvester sat down across from her, grinning. "Thanks. I can always count on you to make everything as unpleasant as possible." He poured cream into his tea before adding sugar.

Sophie giggled, fixing her own tea. It was quite good. "Oh, I have to give this back to you," she said, pulling his folding knife out of her pocket and placing it on the table.

"Is that where it went," he laughed, opening it up to check the blade. "I've been looking for it for ages."

"Yes. My friend is very adamant I shouldn't be in possession of any stolen weapons, so you may have it back."

"My thanks to your friend."

"I shall pass them along. How have you been?"

Sylvester's smile faded, and he slowly put the knife away. "I should be asking you that. I'm fine, nothing new or exciting. At least, nothing new after Mother gave up tracking you down." He was quiet for a few seconds, not looking at her. "She expected you to come crawling back within a few days, and became angrier every passing hour until your letter came. It's… good you weren't there when she read it."

"I'll admit I was trying to upset her," Sophie said softly.

"It worked," he said with a grimace. "She cursed you, disowned you, called you things I shall not repeat… Called you things you've already heard her call you… If you'd walked in at that moment I shudder to think what she might have done."

Sophie watched as Louis thanked the woman who brought him tea. He used two dozen words to ask for more sugar, leaving her giggling as she went to bring it to him.

"Sophie."

She looked back at her brother. "Yes?"

"Where have you been?" He looked truly worried, anxious. "What happened that night?"

Sophie smiled at her tea. "I was caught. By a group called the Drifters. The captain saw what I was doing, what I can do, and then saw how I was dressed… She heard my manner of speaking, and said she had a place for me with them. I am a respectable young lady. I am innocent and excitable and happy. I am certainly not a thief or smuggler who works with pirates and murderers; the very idea is preposterous."

Sylvester stared at her. "You've been-" He lowered his voice, "You're a smuggler?"

Sophie sat up straight, beaming. "No, of course not. I simply collect boxes of gifts my friends overseas send me. I don't know what's in the boxes, but it's always so exciting to get gifts from friends, don't you think? Sometimes boxes are held back, and those always go missing, such a tragedy. The officer in charge is only doing his job, as he says, and then I spend half an hour talking about how it was probably just more printed cotton, and the many uses of printed fabric, and how many lovely dresses I can make with all the fabric my friend is always sending me, and eventually the officer grows so bored he sends me away in self-defense."

Behind Sylvester, Louis caught her eye and smirked before returning to his newspaper.

"That's insane," Sylvester finally decided. "You could be sent to- to Australia; Sophie, this could have real, serious consequences. What if you're caught? You won't be able to talk yourself out of everything, and Father would rather claim you're a stranger than help you. I wouldn't be able to help you."

Sophie took a sip of tea. "Allow me to introduce you to Louis."

Sylvester looked confused until he noticed the man behind him moving. He turned, and Louis held out a hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," Louis said, bowing slightly.

Sylvester hesitated before shaking his hand. "Likewise, I suppose."

Sophie smiled. "Louis, my brother Sylvester. Sylvester, my bodyguard Louis."

"Bodyguard?" Sylvester echoed.

Louis pulled his chair over, also moving his tea to join them. "Miss Sophie is the captain's favorite. She can get into places no one else has figured out how to. And more importantly, she can get out. Captain always has someone trailing her, just in case. So far, she's only been caught once, and that ended in her having tea with the woman she stole from. Walked out with what she went in for, no one batting an eye."

"But you were caught," Sylvester said, looking at Sophie.

"There was an insanely adorable cat," Sophie said. "It got out, and I helped his owner get him back. I think the owner was under the impression I'd only trespassed to pet the cat."

Sylvester was silent for a few moments. "I don't like this," he decided. "Where are you living? Are you safe there? Is there any way I can convince you to come home?"

"I can't tell you. Yes. And, no," she answered.

Louis cleared his throat. "Captain Marie takes good care of her. Miss Sophie is appreciated. I have been told to not let you take her from us."

"But-" Sylvester stopped, then sighed. He looked into his sister's eyes. "Are you happy?"

Sophie smiled, tears springing to her eyes. "Happier than I've ever been. They like me, Sylvester. I don't have to worry about acting properly, I can be myself. I'm free. I have my limits, there are things I don't know, but the things I can do I'm praised for. I am never leaving."

Sylvester looked away. He took a sip of tea, then sighed. "Would your captain allow you to come home in July? Just for a week or two?"

"Yes, but I don't want-"

"It's months away," he interrupted. "To prove you're not being held against your will, promise me you'll come home just for a visit."

"Sylvester, I don't want to face Mother. I don't want to hear what she'll call me. I- I never want to see her again," Sophie said. "I'll meet with you, but why would you make me spend time with a woman who hates me?"

"She might not be there," he told her.

Sophie sighed. "Fine. I promise, as long as Mother isn't there, to visit you in July."

"Thank you." Sylvester glanced at Louis. "And if I want to see you before then? If something important happens? How can I contact you?"

"I'll give you a bird," Louis said, holding his hand into the air.

Sylvester looked confused. Sophie was also confused. And then a finch flew down from the rafters and landed on Louis' finger.

"You can do that?" Sophie squeaked, staring. "I thought they were-" She stopped, not sure how much she should say.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Louis winked at her, then held the bird out to her brother. "Keep this one. If you need to contact Sophie, tell it or give it a letter, then send it out the window."

Sylvester cautiously held his hand out, and the finch hopped over. He looked at Sophie. "I don't know if this man's insane or not."

"It will get to me," she said. "He's not imagining that."

Sylvester carefully patted the tiny thing on the head with a finger. The finch chirped. Louis sat back, smiling as he finished his tea.

Sophie reached out and touched her brother's arm. "Sylvester, thank you for… asking about me. For caring. For wanting to know if I was happy."

He shrugged. "That's a brother's job." He smiled. "It's also my job to call out any man who dares think he's good enough for you. So." He looked at Louis. "Is there anyone I need to pummel?"

Louis nodded. "Aye, a fine young swordsman who- Sorry, am I not supposed to know about that?"

Sophie felt her cheeks burn.

Sylvester grinned at Louis. "A secret relationship, eh?"

Sophie hid her face on the table. "There is no relationship."

"Naturally. Don't fret; no one saw you holding Razan's hand on Saturday," Louis said in a comforting tone.

"I wasn't- We are friends. That is all."

Louis grinned. "Ah, so the rumor I heard that he makes you breakfast every morning is false?"

"He lost a wager! And besides, Peter makes Marie breakfast! There's nothing to it." Sophie huffed, turning to Sylvester. "And you? How are things progressing with Miss Eliza?"

Sylvester smirked. "Quite well, thank you for asking. Her family agreed, and she has accepted my proposal of marriage. Our wedding will be held on July 12th." He looked faintly embarrassed. "Which is why I'd like you to visit then."

Sophie beamed. "Why didn't you say so! Of course I'll come! I wouldn't miss that for the world."

"Good." He glanced at Louis, who was about to ask something. "Your bodyguard may come as well, I suppose. Or… What was his name?"

"Doesn't matter, I will come alone," Sophie said quickly.

He smiled. "Thank you. And thank you for coming today. I'll sleep easier now, knowing you're in good company."

She laughed. "Oh no, it's the worst company, but in all the best ways."

Inti's Watcher

Marie sat against the wall in a corner of the transport room, waiting for Louis and Sophie to return. She knew they'd probably be fine, but there was always a chance something could go wrong. If it did, she was ready.

She was dozing off when the door opened and Ebba came in, a bottle in her hand. She glanced around, spotted Marie, and strolled over. Sitting against the other wall of the corner, Ebba draped her legs over Marie's and handed her the bottle.

"They won't be back for hours," Ebba warned, making herself comfortable.

Marie shrugged, taking a drink before passing the bottle back. It was strong, with a faint peach aftertaste. "Some kind of… brandy?"

"Hell if I know," Ebba said, taking a drink before resting the bottle on her knee. "I gave up asking Nali what anything she makes is when she started using ingredients like bee larvae and snake blood."

"Bee larvae?"

"She got a whole beehive to make something with. A whole beehive." Ebba took another drink. "If you ask what anything is and she looks at Louis, retract the question immediately. She's checking it won't horrify you."

"Understood," Marie laughed, taking the bottle.

Ebba smiled, then sighed. "I… won't be around most of next week. You probably won't be seeing me."

"What's wrong?" Marie asked, feeling a sudden tension in Ebba's muscles.

The witch grinned, in the same way she did when she talked about how she was burned. "They'll be attaching a metal centipede to the back of my neck to poke my brain. It'll turn my eyes off, then my lungs one at a time, and-"

"Ebba," Marie said gently. "What's wrong?"

After a few seconds, Ebba took the bottle back. "The way it was originally explained, my spine and my brain don't speak the same language. There's always been miscommunications, which caused near-constant pain all over, since the day I was born. When I got here they fixed it, but my spine 'forgets' over the course of the year. Usually I ask to get it fixed when my eyesight fades enough to be annoying, but this morning I woke up with my arm feeling frostbitten. I might not be able to join the contest. So it's time."

Marie looked at her arms, trying to see anything off.

"Oh, no, there's never any obvious sign I'm in agony," Ebba said, her voice distinctly bitter. "That would have made life far too easy. Instead, I just got told repeatedly that young people don't have pain. And then they wondered why I spent my days trying to find things which dulled my senses."

"I assume, after all this time, you know what you'll need and have prepared accordingly?" Marie asked, taking her hand.

"I have." She almost continued, stopped, took a drink, then smiled. "Speaking of young people in pain, have you adopted Grace yet?"

"Does Grace need adopting?" Marie asked. "She seems fairly well protected."

Ebba nodded, relaxing now that the conversation was moving on. "I will give you… three things. She's very well protected from me, so I can't do anything with this information. First, she got here when she was seventeen, which is technically too young. Second, she got here and immediately went through serious withdrawals. Third, when anyone asks, she says she's from Tasmania."

Marie frowned, thinking that over. "She's from Tasmania?"

"You know where that is?" Ebba asked, grinning. "Took me ages to figure it out."

"Aye, only English sailors use the name currently on the map," Marie said, distracted. "I may need to adopt her."

Ebba laughed. "There we go; run off and have a chat with her. You know you want to."

"No," Marie said, shaking her head as she took the bottle. "It's nearly midnight. That's not a conversation which can be opened unexpectedly." She smiled. "Besides, I'm comfortable like this."

"Aye, this is a very cozy corner. Well-chosen."

"And if I'm not going to see you next week… What are the odds anyone will pass through in the next half-hour?"

"Hmm, what will you pay for that information?"

"I'll let you have the bottle back."

Ebba grabbed at it, but Marie held it out of reach. "That was mine! You horrible pirate!"

Marie grinned. "Yes, dear, yes I am."

The witch glared, leaning back. "Unfortunately, the odds are high. What did you have in mind?"

London

"So, where shall we go next?"

Sophie glanced up at Louis as they left the tea shop. He looked… ready for adventure.

"We should go home, shouldn't we?"

"Perhaps. But this is my first time visiting this great metropolis! Surely there's something here you'd like me to see," he said, grinning. "Nothing too grand, mind. At heart I am still a humble ship's cook."

"Well…" Sophie hesitated. "There is one place, but if anyone recognized me-"

"Then you'd recognize them as well, meaning no one could say anything about it," Louis said cheerfully.

"Oh. Yes, that's true. And it's not like I'd be there alone," she decided.

"Indeed not! In fact, I demanded you take me, and you can hardly say no to, what shall I be, uncle?"

Sophie turned left, walking in the direction of Madame Tussaud's. "Yes, my uncle, who has been at sea most of his life. Admiral Goldtooth."

His smile calmed as he walked at her side. "Admiral Fogg, lass, if you prefer."

She looked at him. "Oh, is that your real name?"

"No, but it's less… theatrical than my usual moniker." He shrugged. "At most ports in the Caribbean, they'll ask your name, but not for any proof your name is what you say. Thrice I managed to get someone to write 'Flatarse', but that resulted in my being permanently banned from Caracas, Spanish soldiers have no sense of humor whatsoever, so I tried a few less interesting names before settling on 'Goldtooth' as something people were suspicious of but didn't get angry about."

Sophie did her best to not giggle, and it came out in an undignified snort. "And what did Marie think about you being banned from Caracas?"

"That was before I knew her," he said. "By the time we met I was using Goldtooth full-time."

"If I may ask, what is your name?"

"Of course you may ask," he answered. "Alas, only Marie and the devil know my true name, and it must remain that way."

"Oh." Sophie hesitated, wondering how much she could ask before he got annoyed. "Did… you work on Marie's ship?"

Louis smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. "No, I spent my time on a ship which crossed paths with hers quite a bit."

"So how did you fall in love?"

"I've always had a weakness for women who can and will knock my lights out," he admitted solemnly, then smiled at Sophie. "Allow me to ask you something in turn: what is your goal in life?"

Sophie frowned, thinking it over. "I'm not sure I have one."

"You do, you just haven't thought about it," Louis said. "Most people don't. My goal is to make those around me happy. Marie's goal has always been to keep those around her safe. Not the same thing, but there is quite a bit of overlap. Enough we understand each other almost instinctively." He shrugged. "The first time we truly met was during a pub brawl. Two crews, one pub, trying to outdrink each other. Insults began, a chair was thrown, and it devolved from there. Great fun. Then the quartermaster, the no-nonsense Marie LeFleur, came in. She yelled a bit, paid the owner for damages, and walked out. The fighting started up again immediately. And that is when I fell in love with her."

"Because she paid for damage to a pub?"

"Aye. She made sure the owner wouldn't call for us to all be arrested and hung. Didn't stop our entertainment. Just made sure we were safe." Louis sighed. "She's had a hard life, in great part because she goes out of her way to make sure other people don't. I dearly want her to be happy."

Sophie thought that over. "How did you know proposing with a tooth would make her happy?"

Louis grinned. "It was the most idiotic thing I could think of. It's certainly not easy to break through her calmness, but I figured a human tooth would raise enough questions she'd forget to act solemn. And it worked!"

"Will you get her a ring eventually?" Sophie asked.

"If she asks for one," he said.

Sophie shook her head. "That would be improper. You have to get her one, and it must be a gift."

"I would, lass, but I don't know what size ring she wears," Louis said apologetically.

"Is that your only excuse?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"Good. I know what will fit her. We're going to a jeweler." She turned a corner, walking with purpose.

Louis jogged a bit to catch up to her. "Not afraid of staying too long any more?"

"This is for Marie," Sophie stated. "We will stay until five in the morning if that's what's necessary."

He nodded. "Glad we're in agreement."

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