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440 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 11, 2023
Too many times, he had placed deeper meaning onto his ships. They had been homes or places of escape or confinement. There had been the Strabo, his first ship as a midshipman; the Lion, the ship which had changed everything; the Scylla, the ship which had made him understand so much about his life. The Ulysses was another. He had painted her as an image of hope, a way to alleviate what he had lost, proof he could still stand – but now her symbols were stripped away. She was a desolate, melancholy construction of wood and canvas and metal and hemp. Nightingale faced the very core. In that kernel, he saw himself.
[Spoiler] had been broken by the past two days of questioning. The control over his own narrative had slipped, perhaps for the first time.