Page 33 of Rears & Vices
Surely, that was absurd. Even if the man had, for some reason, plucked A Treatise of Human Nature out of Everard’s trunk, he probably wouldn’t have had the time to read it in the interim hours, much less form complicated opinions around the thing.
Astoundingly, it was Vitaliy who flushed then: pink splotches on flat cheekbones, rouge sparingly applied. Everard remembered that feature too well—remembered that it only appeared at the utmost.
“I’ve offended you at last,” Everard said quickly. Why did he so relish prodding the man into strong emotion? “I’m sorry; I don’t mind if you had. It was only a handful of books and letters, I don’t own much in the way of physical capital”—and didn’t really need to, with his memory—“but you were welcome to it, as Thom was doubtless aware.”
Vitaliy blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Leaned even closer, and put a big hand over Everard’s left one.
Everard startled but then remembered their surroundings. He nonetheless felt very visible, exposed.
“Why don’t you but ask me,” Vitaliy murmured, “what kind of pirate I am?”
“Stubbornness?” Everard offered, weakly.
Vitaliy shook his head. His hand slid off Everard’s, and he stretched, arms high over his head. He yawned hugely. The blush had remained.
Everard did not, absolutely did not stare. There was that quotidian beauty again, fascinating him.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Vitaliy said at last.
“Oh, shall I?”
Vitaliy hummed. “If you wish it.”
Everard kept quiet. If Vitaliy was going to tease him with whatever proposition he hadn’t yet put forth…
Why not but ask?
He sighed, and gave in. “Have we finally come to ‘what after’?”
“Nearly. I am enjoying this too much.” Vitaliy drew his fingers over his smoothed hair. “You did not know who I am, so maybe you don’t understand. It has taken me years to get Vee’s reputation as it is. And now to the world it seems certain he has bribed a captain of the British Navy.”
“This is… worse… than general piracy? Slaughter and destruction?”
“Morally, no. Practically…” Vitaliy sighed. “…Yes, it is worse. I cannot have men—Englishmen—expecting bribery from Vee. I can’t afford it.”
“Literally cannot?” Everard laughed. “Is there a going rate of ruinous extortion? Surely, there are only the two options, bribery or violence. As a rule of piracy.”
“As a rule of humanity,” Vitaliy agreed, “it is one or the other. And…” He smiled. “…Not literally incapable, no. I am sorry to say he is a successful pirate.”
Everard took a moment to think why this statement had so lacked braggadocio, framed with the typical polite modesty as it had been. Maybe it was the third-person distancing. Or perhaps just Everard’s own radical views on capital tinging the matter.
“He’s wealthy, you mean.”
“Yes. You might see for yourself soon,” Vitaliy said lightly. “Still, we must find some alternative than that he has compensated you financially for your loyalty. Varfolomey’s influence is almost all in hearsay. A pirate’s reputation is everything he is.”
The man was very reyish, after all; he only lacked a rubied crown. Everard let it slide, because it was true. What he’d done had felt rather like loyalty.
“You would rather men—other pirates—turn tail than engage him. As I understand, that’s been the point of insignia for millennia. But, you’ll pardon me for asking, how does escaping His Majesty’s noose make him any lesser in the Caribbean?”
“There are governments there, recognised and unrecognised—”
“Haïti?” Everard interjected; Vitaliy nodded.
“—that depend on others’ reception of my trade. Governments that I depend on receiving my trade,” Vitaliy emphasised. “It’s all connected, sticky, like web. None of them must think I am connected in any way to the Crown, or they will reject me and my ships and my people out of fear of their own betrayal, or worse.”
“But if you are American, is that not just as bad?”
Vitaliy paused. “It would be,” he admitted. “But while you know my true name and heritage, there are few who do. Very few.”
