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He seems genuinely confused. “Why wouldn’t I be there?”

I burn up. “Oh, I don’t know. What about next week, if I Fully Integrate? You’re not still going to be in my room then, are you?”

He sort of flinches at that. But says nothing.

So, I push on. “What happens then, when a random soldier decides, hey, maybe I don’t actually like having an enemy in the cabin next door? A traitor to their country? What if, a whole bunch of soldiers decide they don’t like it?”

Riss cuts in. “That hasn’t happened, Ara. FIs, they’re part of the crew. Dezeeves would put on trial anyone who threatened a member of his crew. He just did.”

“That’s not good enough,” I say. “I don’t feel safe here. My upbringing…” I look sideways at Drake. Wonder if he’ll get my meaning. “My upbringing was probably different to the other prisoners here. And I’m not a captured soldier with actual combat training behind me. I don’t like walking around, feeling like an easy target.”

Drake speaks up for the first time, his voice low.

“She’s right. She needs training. And quickly.”

Cosmer’s eyes snap to his, over the top of my head. “No one asked for your opinion.”

“An oversight, clearly. Seeing as I’m the only one among us who understands what she means when she says the ship isn’t safe for us.”

Cosmer’s nose and freckles crease. “Do you not hear what an idiotic thing you’ve just said? The ship isn’t safe for any of us. We’re at war! We could get ambushed tomorrow, for all we know⁠—”

“All the more reason to train her,” Drake counters. Quieter, he states, “Ara, I can do it. If they won’t.”

I’ve been having to keep looking between them. But now, I spin to face him fully.

“Great—” I start to say.

But Riss speaks up from behind me. “Ara. You asked me to train you, and I’m your keeper. Since Cosmer doesn’t want to – and since Drake, being another prisoner, isn’t allowed to be alone with you – I’ll do it if that’s what you want. Okay?”

“Riss,” Cosmer says. “This is a bad idea.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not.” She shrugs. “Either way, I’ll add it to her book.” She throws him an easy smile. “I’m all up for trying to get some extra credit.”

“When could we start?” I ask.

Riss’ gaze flicks up to the sun.

“I reckon we still have a good couple of hours before we need to start getting ready for the Captain’s Dinner. So, now?”

Making the bed is easy compared to the hard work Riss puts me through in the Training Room for the next hour. I thank the Sisters for the breeches I’ve been given. I would never have been able to do any of that in a dress.

After the intense drills, she leads me onto a mat and demonstrates how to stop someone from attacking me from behind. We practice the move, and I do my best to ignore Cosmer and Drake, who, with nothing better to be doing while they wait for us, are doing their own thing on separate ends of the room. Drake is lifting weights, while Cosmer is pushing himself up and down a bar with the kind of athleticism I’d admired in him when we were friends. He’s taken his shirt off. His muscles are rippling. His skin shines with sweat.

But his back. The way his skin stretches over it. I’m aware, again, of how thin he is.

I’m torn away from him, as at that moment, Riss stabs me in the back with her arm and flips me using her hip. It makes me smack down onto the floor on my knees.

“Stop staring at Cosmer, and concentrate,” she snaps. “You’re supposed to be blocking.”

I rub my knees. Look up at her. Someone of her small size and height should not be able to flip another person like that.

It’s good. It gives me confidence that, with my own lean, shorter frame, I can learn too.

I get to my feet.

She’s already stepping backwards, getting ready to run at me again.

“Riss,” I say, quietly, facing forward. “Are you sure Cosmer’s all right?”