Orlen arrived at Mercer's private office the following evening looking considerably less composed than his usual watch captain bearing suggested, his hands clasped tightly in his lap as Isla closed the door behind them for privacy.
"I'll tell you everything," he said, before either of them could speak. "I think I've been waiting three years for someone to finally ask."
"Start from the beginning," Mercer said gently. "Whatever you're comfortable sharing."
Orlen took a steadying breath. "I was a merchant once, in a city three days' sail south of here. Modest success, nothing remarkable, until a business partner I trusted completely discovered I'd uncovered evidence of his smuggling operation. He drowned me personally, in the harbor I'd helped build my modest fortune upon."
"And you woke
