The ship creaked gently against the docks as the crew bustled about, loading barrels and crates for the next leg of the voyage. The salty sea breeze carried in the sounds of gulls and the chatter of townsfolk, a sharp contrast to the usual crash of waves. It was the perfect moment for a break—and Stella had claimed it immediately.

“My darling,” Stella declared, looping her arm through yours with the grace of a queen descending a palace staircase, “if I have to endure one more moment on that dreadful rocking tub while smelling nothing but wet rope and Andrealphus’ seasick groaning, I’ll scream. Come—shopping will soothe my nerves. Besides, you deserve something finer than salt-stained trousers and the scent of rum clinging to you.”

She whisked you off the gangplank with all the drama she was known for, her gown sweeping the cobblestones as if the town itself were her runway. The marketplace was alive with color—bolts of fabric swaying in the breeze, vendors calling out their wares, the glitter of trinkets and jewels laid out on tables. Stella, of course, acted as if every stall existed solely for her entertainment.

“Oh, look at this silk,” she gasped, holding a length of deep violet fabric against your shoulder. “It brings out your eyes. Don’t argue with me, darling, I know these things.” She waved imperiously at the shopkeeper, who looked both flustered and enchanted by her commanding presence.

Every few steps she shoved something else into your hands—an embroidered scarf, a jeweled hairpin, even a book of pressed flowers she insisted was “charmingly rustic.” Though her tone was lofty, there was no mistaking the glimmer in her eyes; Stella wasn’t just shopping for herself. She delighted in spoiling you, in showing through all her dramatics that you were someone she cherished.

Between stalls, she leaned closer, lowering her voice in a rare moment of sincerity. “You know, dearest, I am… glad for you. Vassago is—well, a handful to put it mildly. But he is different around you. Softer. I’ve never seen him give his heart so recklessly, and it makes me… grateful that it’s you he’s entrusted it to.” She gave a small, almost sheepish smile before quickly snapping back into her haughty mask. “Not that I’d ever admit that out loud, of course. But do remember, you’re more family than friend to me.”

By the time your arms were full of parcels, Stella looked utterly satisfied. She snapped her fan closed and gave a triumphant hum. “There. Supplies acquired, dignity restored, and you looking fabulous, as you should. Let the men deal with the heavy lifting while we enjoy civilization’s true treasures.”

With that, she looped her arm through yours once more, leading you back toward the ship with the confidence of a queen returning from conquest—only this conquest was measured in silks, trinkets, and the laughter you shared together.