Our primary currency, the rare pink pearls that were only found in our waters, had also become scarce of late, as the Ilarean appetite for them continued to increase. The pearls were used to make jewelry for the nobility, but they could also be ground up and added to skin creams and cosmetics. Most Varenian families had a small jar of healing ointment made from the pearls, but that was to be saved for emergencies, since many of us were naturally healthy from spending so much time in the waters that were said to make the pearls special in the first place. After the incident, Mother had used the ointment daily on my scar in hopes of minimizing its appearance, but stopped once she realized it would never heal completely.

Sami dropped a tarnished brass button onto the table next to the empty oyster shell. “Look what I got for Zadie.”

I tsked in disapproval. By law, Ilara was our sole trade partner for all the things the sea couldn’t provide: clothing, fruits and vegetables, tools, books, barrels of fresh water. Even our firewood came from Ilara. But Sami was the exception to the rule. He often traded secretly—and illegally—with our cousins, the Galethians. Over a hundred years ago, a small population of Varenians had risked their lives to set foot on land, then quickly fled north on a herd of stolen Ilarean horses. Those horses became the foundation of the Galethian culture, just as the waves had formed ours.

“Wave children,” the Ilareans called us. And that was exactly how they treated us: like children.

The Ilareans had access to resources we could only dream of—not just fresh water and food, but also sophisticated weapons and thousands of men. Occasionally a desperate Varenian would attempt to land on Ilarean soil, in search of an easier life away from the whims of the sea, but they were usually dealt with swiftly and decidedly by the soldiers who patrolled the shoreline. It was possible a few got away with it, but any violation of Ilarean law wouldn’t just end in death for the defector in question—Ilara could eradicate our people swiftly and with little effort. They’d made that clear in all their dealings with us.

I poked at the button with feigned indifference, though in truth, anything from land fascinated me. “And what will Zadie do with a button? Use it to fasten the trousers she doesn’t wear?”

“I’m making her a cloak to take with her when she leaves. She’ll be cold in Ilara.”

Sami knew as well as I did that Zadie was going to be chosen at the ceremony. It was as hard for him as it was for me, in some ways, because he loved her, too. He always had. I suspected that Zadie returned his love, but they both knew she would leave to marry the prince someday, so their relationship could never be more than friendship.

“That’s so thoughtful,” I said. “But you shouldn’t be trading with the Galethians. If you’re caught, they’ll hang you.”

“Then I guess I can’t get caught.” He smiled, revealing teeth as white as shells against his tanned skin. Boys didn’t carry the same burden as Varenian girls, at least not when it came to scars and sunburns. They had to provide for their families, however, and that was becoming harder and harder. Last year, two pearls had been enough to feed a family for a month. Now it took twice that many, yet somehow the quality of the goods they fetched was poorer. I had learned a long time ago not to ask questions about our trade relationship with Ilara—it was the elders’ place to worry about such things, not mine. And according to Mother, I had far more important things to worry about, like the sheen of my hair or the length of my eyelashes.

But that had never stopped me from wondering about the world beyond Varenia.

“Any news from Galeth?” I asked.

“There’s talk of an uprising in Southern Ilara.”

“That’s nothing new.”

He shook his head. “It’s getting worse. King Xyrus refuses to grant safe passage to the refugees heading north, even though the Galethians would welcome them with open arms.”

“Anything to bolster their army.”

“It’s more than that. The Galethians were refugees once, too.”

I turned the button over in my hand. It was engraved with a small, many-petaled flower. I’d heard of roses, though I’d never seen one before. I tried to imagine a world in which something as small as a button was deemed worthy of this level of craftsmanship.

“It’s beautiful,” I said before dropping the button into the empty oyster shell. “Just like Zadie.”

Sami’s hand closed around my shoulder, and I leaned my cheek against it. “What will we do without her?” I whispered.

There was a pause, then a cough. “I suppose we’ll just have to marry each other.”

I rapped his knuckles with the wooden spoon I held, and he pulled his hand away. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last boy in Varenia.”

He placed his hand on his chest, feigning offense. “And why not?”

“Because you’re my best friend. And worse, you’re the future governor.”

“You’re right. You’d make a terrible governor’s wife, anyway.” He snatched a dried date off the table and darted out of my reach.

“Do that again, and I swear I won’t marry you. You’ll be stuck with Alys.”

He grimaced. “Imagine our little shark-toothed children. My mother would weep.”

Zadie poked her head around the door and frowned. “You’re both wicked, do you know that? Alys is kind and loyal. You’d be lucky to marry her.”

“You’re right,” I said, chastened. I knew better than most what it was like to be judged by one’s appearance.

Zadie twisted her wet hair at the side of her head, letting the fresh water from her bath drip into the bucket we used to rinse our dishes. Zadie never slept with seawater in her hair at Mother’s behest, though fresh water from Ilara was expensive and meant to be saved for drinking and cooking.

“Would a wicked man bring you this?” Sami asked, proffering the brass button in its mother-of-pearl serving tray.

She gasped, then folded her arms across her chest. “I suppose he would, since an honest man could never have come by this.”

He glanced at me over his shoulder, then moved closer to Zadie. “You like it, don’t you? Please say you do. I wanted to make you a cloak to take with you to Ilara. It will be cold in the mountains.”

“You don’t know I’m going yet,” she said, though her posture softened. “Besides, where would you get cloth for a cloak?”

“An honest man would never betray his source.”

“An honest man wouldn’t have a source to begin with.”

I pretended to stir the stew—even watered down, it was barely enough for the four of us—while I watched them from beneath my lashes. I was grateful Zadie hadn’t chided him for wasting money that could have gone toward food, but they should be distancing themselves from each other, if they knew what was good for them. If not for my scar, perhaps I would be the one going to Ilara. Then Sami and Zadie could marry as they pleased, and I would get to see more than an engraving of a rose on a silly brass button for another girl.

Maybe in another life, I thought bitterly. But not in this one.

“What’s that wonderful smell?” Father asked as he entered the house behind Zadie, sending Sami stumbling away from her. Father had just come back from fishing in deeper waters, judging by the sea salt crust on his brow and his wind-chapped cheeks.

“The same thing we eat every night,” I said. “Unless you caught something today?”

He gave a small, sad shake of his head, and my stomach grumbled in response. I tapped the spoon on the side of the pot to cover the sound. “That’s all right, Father. The last time Zadie cooked fish, the house stank for a week.”

Sami laughed, and Zadie pretended to be offended, gently pushing Sami aside. Even my father allowed himself a small smile at my attempt to lighten the mood.

My parents had noticed the way Sami and Zadie acted around each other—it was impossible not to—but Father was a little more tolerant than Mother, who wanted nothing to distract Zadie from fulfilling her ultimate purpose in life: becoming queen, since Mother herself had not. Twenty years ago, that honor had gone to another young woman, and Mother wasn’t about to let history repeat itself. I was her safeguard, though in the past year or so, when it became more and more clear Zadie would make it to the ceremony unscathed, she’d focused the bulk of her attention on my poor sister.

Father cleared his throat and turned to Sami, who quickly hid the button behind his back. “I believe your father is looking for you. Something about you being missing earlier today, when you were supposed to be delivering firewood to your aunts?” He arched an eyebrow, but I could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Yes, sir. I was just leaving.” Sami turned to give Zadie a kiss on the cheek, then me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow,” Father reminded him. “The girls will be preparing for the ceremony, remember?”

He wasn’t a particularly imposing man, at least not to me, but Sami flushed. “Of course. At the ceremony, then.”

I wished Father would leave and give Sami a chance to say a proper goodbye. The next time he saw Zadie, she would be as good as betrothed to the Prince of Ilara.