"Marya!" Her little sister was tugging at Marya's sleeve. "Where are we going? Mother said we are to come straight home from the market. Straight home and no dilly-dallying, Mother said."

"Oh, hush, Annie. Mother will not know. Not unless you squeal. Are you a little squealer, Annie?"

"I'm no squealer! You know I'm not. I never told anyone about that ship boy, the one who -"

"He's no boy. He's a young man. He's … well, never mind what he is. Now be a good girl, Annie, and follow me. We must be quick, or we will miss him."

"Him? Who?"

"Never mind who."

"But why are we going to the docks?" Annie asked, when the ships finally came into view.

"You'll see," Marya replied, smiling.

He had been waiting for her. She could tell from the way his eyes were roaming, eagerly searching for that one face in the crowd. His eyes shone when he finally spotted her, the muddy brown suddenly gleaming like polished jewels. Marya was about to wave, but she stopped herself when she saw that he was now pretending to be busy with some crates or other, as if it did not truly matter to him whether or not she came to the docks to bid him farewell before his voyage.

Perhaps he is shy, she told herself.

But he had not seemed shy at all on the day he taught her how to spot smuggler's stars on the night sky, when he told her how glad he would be to see her one last time before his ship sailed.

Or perhaps he did not wish to seem too eager, this time.

Well, Marya thought, two could play at this game.

She turned, as if getting ready to leave without greeting him.

"M'lady," she heard him calling her, tentatively.

"It's him!" Annie said, still looking at the direction of the docks, resisting Marya's effort to pull her away. "Look, Marya! It's that ship boy … no, ship man. The one who helped you chase the nasty thief and make him return the bread to the beggar boy. The one who said he wanted to see you again."

At the time, Marya had given the thief half of the bread in her own basket, after he was apprehended.

"Why did you give him your bread?" Davos had asked.

"Only a starving man begs bread from a beggar."

"He didn't beg. He stole."

"True enough. And we have made him return what he stole, as he must. But he is still starving."

"If only there were more gentle souls like you, when I was an orphan boy roaming these streets."

"M'lady." Davos' voice was louder now, interrupting her reminiscence of their first meeting, but Marya still pretended not to hear. "Marya," he called out, and Marya finally turned around. He was standing only a few steps away from her, having left the crates he had been pretending to busy himself with earlier.

"You came, m'lady," he said, looking very pleased, but also surprised. Did he think she wouldn't come?

"I told you, I'm no lady," Marya replied.

"Well, you're a lady to me," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

To hide her smile, Marya looked down at the basket she was carrying. "We are on our way home from the fish market," she announced. "Annie here wants to see the ships from Braavos. They are truly magnificent, we have heard."

"No, I di - " Marya's free hand covered Annie's mouth before she could finish the sentence.

Davos' face fell. "Oh," he said, just that one word, and nothing else. The 'oh' of crushed hope and disappointment. Oh. I thought you came to see me. Oh. I thought you came to say farewell, and to wish me a safe journey. Marya could read the thoughts churning in his mind as clearly as if he had shouted them to the world.

But then, smiling again, the cloud slowly lifting from his face, Davos leaned forward and bended his knees so his eyes were almost level with Annie's. "I'm afraid all the ships from Braavos have sailed, little lady. But the ships from Lys are still here, and they are just as magnificent as the ones from Braavos."

Annie giggled. "I'm not a little lady," she said, when Marya finally removed the hand covering her mouth.

"Oh?" It was a different kind of 'oh' this time, an amused and teasing one. Davos raised his eyebrows. "Are you an old lady?"

Annie laughed. "No! I'm not an old lady. I'm only seven."

"Then you're a fine lady, mistress Annie."

"What about my sister? What kind of lady is she?"

Glancing at Marya meaningfully before giving his answer, Davos said, "She's my lady … if she wishes to be, of course."

Annie frowned. "My lady? What kind of lady is that?"

Marya suppressed a laugh. "Yes, master Davos. Pray tell us, what kind of lady is that?"

"A kind lady," Davos said. "Kind enough to accept my affection," he whispered, only for Marya's ears.

How forward of him, after only a brief acquaintance between them. Did he expect her to say, "I accept" so quickly, when they had not yet known very much about each other?

"You must return safely. You still owe me many stories. You haven't told me why your first captain was called the Blind Bastard when he was neither blind nor a bastard," Marya replied. There, she thought. Let him reflect and ponder her answer during his long days at sea.

Davos turned to Annie. "Should you ever miss me, mistress Annie, look to the night sky for the smuggler's stars. We're heading north on this voyage, so the bright blue eye of the Ice Dragon will lead you straight to us."

"Which stars are the smuggler's stars?" Annie asked.

"Ask your sister," Davos said. "She knows."

Impulsively, Marya grasped his arm and said, "If you are going north, do not trade with the wildlings. Remember the fate of your captain. The Black Brothers will not be merciful."

Davos' face was solemn. "Your concern for me will sustain me on this long voyage, Marya."

Marya's face turned crimson. She released her hold on his arm and said, in as blithe a tone as she could affect, "Oh, I'm sure you're used to concerns from many women in many ports. What is the concern of one woman among countless others?"

"Everything," replied Davos, softly.