The cabin door clicked open with a quiet, unoiled squeak.
Kaelen Vance stepped out onto the splintered foredeck of the ironclad barge. He wore his faded indigo bathrobe tied loosely at the waist, a pair of soft fleece-lined slippers, and carried the ninth book of The Bandit King’s Secret Bride tucked casually under his left arm.
The morning breeze caught the hem of his robe, exposing two bare ankles.
Standing twenty paces away, Imperial River-Admiral Gou-Chun froze, his sea-dragon trident hovering in midair.
Boiling steam hissed from the joints of his blue plate armor, and his bloodshot eyes darted over Kaelen with total, uncomprehending disgust.
“This is Master Ash?” Gou-Chun snarled, spit spraying from his teeth. “The supreme commander of the rebel horde is an apprentice slacker who hasn’t even bothered to put on trousers?”
Kaelen didn’t answer the question.
He looked down at the deck, counting four split cedar planks near the admiral’s iron boots.
