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Severin sat rigidly at my right. His jet-black hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, drawing attention to his sharp features. Lord Chandler, my Head of Port, a plump older gentleman, was seated across from him, looking as if he had asked me a question more than once.

Admiral Tribideau stared resolutely at the shipping ledger in front of him, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested he knew where my thoughts had wandered.

My cravat suddenly felt tight.

“I asked when we are transferring the Valorous to Mistfall,” Lord Chandler repeated.

“Why would we be sending a warship to another duchy for repairs when Valemer has a naval yard of its own?”

Lord Chandler’s mouth opened, then closed.

Beside me, Severin shifted in his chair. Or rather, the chair he’d been demoted to when I unexpectedly walked into the room and claimed the seat at the head of the table.

“Her hull requires ironwood,” Severin explained. “Mistfall’s shipyard has an ample supply.”

“And we do not?” I questioned.

“A labor dispute in Trenal delayed our last shipment.” Severin gripped the bridge of his nose. “I told you about this months ago.”

I opened my journal and flipped through the pages, looking for a note on Trenali labor disputes. Before Emmaline’s death, I had attended these meetings every Thursday morning. I had known every ship entering my harbor, every captain serving my fleet, and every loose plank on every dock from Old Town to the naval yard.

Then my mate was reborn, we were married, and I left for the capital. At first, I sent instructions through Severin. Then I allowed him to make the smaller decisions himself. Eventually, when I returned and refused to leave the castle, nearly every decision became his.

The problem was that he didn’t know what to look for when it came to The Devouring. Only I had those memories, and I didn’t want my fastest ship away from homeport.

Cora had been right. My grief was killing my people.

My thoughts wandered back to our rendezvous last night and the wild cry that tore from her throat when I finally slid inside her.

I drove the nib of my pen through the paper.

Everyone at the table looked down at it.

“The pen is defective,” I said.

Admiral Tribideau coughed into his fist.

I set the ruined pen aside and removed another from my case. “Send word to Trenal. I want to know who is disputing what and why it has delayed an order of ironwood. Until then, the Valorous remains in Valemer.”

“The transfer request has already been approved,” Severin said carefully. “We’ve allocated the coin.”

“By whom was it approved?”

His jaw tightened. “By me.”

“Then you may unapprove it.”

A heavy silence settled over the table. Irritation and hurt flashed behind Severin’s eyes. He feared I did not trust his decisions. I often saw that look in my son’s eyes.

I did not enjoy embarrassing my nephew. Severin had kept Valemer prosperous while I struggled to remember which nanny Adrien had driven away and fretted over how he’d eat the next week. He deserved my gratitude.

“Send my apologies to your father, but my first job is to protect this harbor.” I turned to Lord Chandler. “Speaking of protecting the harbor, what have we learned about The Devouring?”

He and the admiral exchanged a glance.

“We have made inquiries,” Lord Chandler said. “But if anyone has been doing business with them, they aren’t admitting it.”

“That is not what I asked,” I said with an edge of impatience.