The bowl rocked on the chest lid.
Vivienne steadied it with two fingers, turned it slightly, and tried again. It rocked in a different direction.
She had known it would.
Beneath the lid lay the things White Crown’s workers had gathered for her departure: practical notes, a folded spare garment, the small objects somebody had been patient enough to ask about before throwing them away.
She lifted the bowl. Its repaired edge caught lightly against her thumb.
In the galley, Ada was checking a pan while a local cook returned the last borrowed utensils.
“Can this still be used?” Vivienne asked.
Ada took it, inspected the repair, and set it on the bench.
