Stifling a yawn with the back of my hand, I placed my palm against the glass as if to welcome the sun and almost recoiled at the frigid surface. Instead, I closed my eyes, forcing myself to really feel it and accept it as it was. No matter how many times I had repeated this gesture in the past, and even though I knew better, I always expected the sun to warm the glass. There was just something about the sun that always reminded me of warmth—and breakfast.

For a moment, I wavered between heading to the galley to get a cup of coffee and pouring myself a night cap, before deciding on neither. Firus liked his coffee strong and bitter and most of the crew had either grown accustomed to it or they pretended to enjoy it to emulate him. I needed to get some rest. After leaving a note for Firus briefly detailing my concerns regarding the ship behind us, I gave Rorcester instructions to wake me in four hours.

I returned to my bunk, hung up my uniform and collapsed into bed. Exhausted, I fell into a dreamless sleep.