“Aw, come on, Captain. All I want is a clean shirt.”
“What I’m trying to say is Belle and I are together now. So…” Renny trailed off, peering above his glasses as if the rest of the message should be clear. Finally, he blurted, “I need you to bunk somewhere else.”
“Oh.” Kane mentally smacked his own forehead. “Right, no problem.”
“Maybe you can bunk with Cassia. You two are getting along again.”
That was true, though the suggestion that he room with Cassia was like inviting an alcoholic to live in a distillery. But as his only alternative was the cold cargo-hold floor, he filled a box with his clothes and grabbed his pillow on the way out the door to his old quarters.
The room was vacant when he dropped off his box. He wondered if Arabelle was off somewhere breaking the news to Cassia. He hoped so, because he didn’t want that job. After changing into a clean shirt and leaving the stained one to soak in the washroom, he returned to the galley and dished out six bowls of tomato soup with toasted chickpeas.
The crew gathered at the table, with Cassia and Arabelle bringing up the rear. As soon as he glanced at Cassia, he could tell she knew about the change in their sleeping arrangements. She wore the same look of concern that he felt inside.
Renny lifted his cup and motioned for everyone to do the same. “We officially have a new crew member. I think this calls for a toast—to Belle.”
“To Belle,” everyone repeated over the sound of clinking mugs.
Arabelle took Renny’s hand and gazed at him with so much tenderness that Kane had to look away.
“Now that you’re one of us, there’s no avoiding it,” Solara said. “You have to ask a question.”
Arabelle smiled as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “I already thought of a good one. Would you rather have one wish granted today, or five wishes granted three years from now?”
“Neither,” Renny said, and kissed the inside of her palm. “My wish already came true.”
The whole crew groaned and threw their napkins at him.
Renny shrugged. “It did.”
“I’d take mine today,” Cassia said, retrieving her napkin.
“Me too,” Kane agreed. “We’re up against the mob. What’s the point of five wishes if I don’t live to spend them?”
Doran delivered a fist bump across the table. “You said it. I heard another pirate lord turned up dead—the same guy who took over sector two after the last chief died. I don’t know how Fleece is picking them off so fast.”
“I heard the same thing.” Cassia frowned at her soup. “Yesterday he put his transmissions on lockdown. It’s like he heard us talking about him and fixed his system settings.”
Arabelle didn’t say anything, but the cherubic grin left her face.
“Since all of you are taking your wishes now, I’ll save mine,” Solara said. “As much trouble as we get into, I’m sure they’ll come in handy three years from now.”
Kane didn’t want the topic to drift back to the mafia, so he nudged Cassia’s ankle with his boot. “It’s your turn. Next question.”
She alternated a few glances between her soup and his face, warning him that she had something on her mind. She couldn’t seem to look at him when she asked, “Would you rather tell nothing but the truth, or nothing but lies?”
He hadn’t expected such an easy question. “The first one. I always say what I’m thinking anyway.”
“Always?” she asked. “Even when you close a deal?”
“Especially during a deal. I might present the truth in a way that benefits me, but I don’t tell outright lies. Trust is too important for business.”
“So you’re saying you never lie?”
He paused and studied her for a moment. He sensed this was about him, but he didn’t know what he’d done to upset her. “Is there anything you’d like to get off your chest?”
Everyone at the table grew still.
“Would you be honest with me if I did?”
“Enough, already. If you have something to say, come out with it.”
“All right.” She set down her spoon and folded both arms on the table. “Do you think I should abdicate the throne?”
Her question caught him off guard. Of course he wanted her to give up the throne—he always had. There was no other way for them to be together as equals. She had to know he wanted that more than anything.
“Do you agree with the rebels,” she continued, “that I should step down and amend the charter so they can elect a new leader?”
“Ah,” he said in understanding. Those were two very different questions. “Not exactly polite dinner conversation, is it?”
“You promised to be honest.”
“I don’t think you want the answer.”
She sank an inch, peering at him with enough hurt in her eyes to make him wish he could take it back. “That’s an answer in itself. You support the rebellion.”