Page 37 of Carousel

I stare at the tray. Only two plates.

I tilt my head at Cosmer.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes as he states, rather bluntly, “I’m not allowed to eat the food they serve on the ship.”

Well, that’s bizarre.

I don’t hide my bafflement as I ask, “Why?”

He shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But don’t you get hungry?”

“I do,” he states. Tight. “Sometimes.”

“So, how do you eat?”

“I find ways,” is all he says.

Drake scratches his jaw. “Punishment?” he asks him, coyly. “Or sacrifice?”

“None of your business. And you will speak to me as the officer I am to you.”

That settles the matter.

Cosmer glances at me, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flask. Places it on the table, by my plate.

I stare at it. It’s undoubtedly silver and engraved with a spiralling pattern.

Where did he get something like this? I’d seen identical flasks, and similarly crafted items like goblets and timepieces, around the Palace or being worn by royals.

“Take it,” he says.

I do take it, but loosely. I’m scared to get my fingerprints on it. It’s too beautiful. “Thank you,” I say.

“Nice flask,” Drake says. I realise he’s been watching it, too.

“It does the job.”

“Rhavnan crafted, surely?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Cosmer responds, seemingly disinterested. “Is it?”

I pass the flask to Drake, who lifts it up to the light to inspect it. As he does, I spot an inscription in Rhavnan at the base.

For your holy water. –D

“Yes. Certainly Rhavnan. I could even take a good guess as to the smith.” Handing the flask back to Cosmer, he says, “Been looting from dead soldiers, have we?”

Cosmer glowers. “I will remind you, again, to speak to me with respect.”

A brief pause.

Cosmer adds, to me, “And – only so that we’re clear of my character – it was a gift.”