Something was amiss.
Vivienne did not know what it was, but she awakened alone in that chamber on the morning afterward. She climbed to the deck that first morning in search of Erik and found the ship surrounded by dense white fog. The sails hung damply from the masts and the sea was as still as a mirror. A sailor rang a bell at steady intervals, clearly at Rosamunde’s command, but there was not so much as a breath of wind, let alone any hint of another soul.
They might have sailed off the edge of the world. Worse, Erik seemed determined to avoid her. Each time she reached his side, he departed with haste, barely sparing her a glance.
Erik appeared to take pains to avoid Vivienne, which was no small feat on a ship of this size. She felt bereft without his touch, without the merest sign
