The ship rocks beneath me, lulling my body into a quiet place that isn’t quite sleep.
Lacing my hands beneath my head, I stretch out on the cot, listening to the muffled waves outside my porthole. The sea is kind today, perhaps only to lure us into a false sense of security. Water is fickle, and man is foolish enough to think we can tame it.
The sun is setting beyond my small window, casting the cabin in an orange hue. I stare idly at the slatted ceiling above, unsure what to do with myself. I’ve never been so useless on a mission. One might find this dullness relaxing, but it’s restlessness I feel.
My dinner plate sits atop the bedside table, now empty of the potatoes and beef that once filled the chipped dish. Reaching over it, I grab the bottle of rum that was graciously brought to my room and lift it to my lips. I sit up from the rough pillow, grimacing as the alcohol burns down my throat.
“Shit.” I cough out the curse before deciding it’s a good idea to take another sip. This may be some of the strongest liquor I’ve had in years. Likely since Ava died.
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth that has nothing to do with the rum. My grip is tight around the bottle’s neck. Since boarding this ship, I’ve been continuously reminded of just how dangerous it is to be alone with my own thoughts.
So I have no choice but to be with her.
That is what I tell myself as I stride out into the hall and rap my knuckles against her door.
Paedyn’s voice is muffled behind the wood. “Yes?”
“Would you like some company?” I call back.
“Is it yours?”
“I’m afraid so, darling.”
“All right, come in,” she says, sounding amused. “By turning the handle, not kicking down the door.”
Smiling, I do as I’m told and step into the room. She’s sitting on the bed, ankles crossed in front of her and back propped against the cabin wall. The dying sunlight streams far brighter through this porthole, splashing color and warmth over her. A worn book is held loosely between her fingers when those blue eyes flick up to mine.
“See,” she says sweetly, “that wasn’t so hard.”
I give her a look before sprawling onto her bed, my head in her lap.
“Are you drinking away your boredom?” she muses, looking down at me.
I shake the bottle still clutched in my hand. “I was. And then I remembered that you are a far more appealing distraction.”
She rolls those bright eyes at me. “Did you come in here just to flirt, Azer?”
“Darling, I haven’t even started.”
Groaning dramatically, she snatches the bottle from my hand. “Then I’m going to need this.”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”
She takes a swig of rum, twisting her face at the taste. I’m laughing before her lips have even left the bottle. She coughs and sputters and shoves the liquor back into my palm. Composing herself, Pae looks down at me with watery eyes that may just be a drop of the sea itself. “There are a lot of things I pretend not to love.”
I still at her words. My gaze wanders over the face she tilts toward me, over every strand of silver hair falling around it. I reach up slowly, running my fingers through the shining, sun-drenched pieces. My voice is a murmur, a quiet confession. “You’re far better at pretending than I am.”
Her smile is sad. “I’ve just had more practice at it.”
I shut my eyes for a long moment, reminded of the wearisome life she’s endured. “I know.”
She manages a smile, her fingers suddenly closing around the bottle once again. As soon as it’s pried from my hand, she’s lifting it into the air. “But we don’t need to pretend in here.”
After taking another sip, she hands the rum to me between coughs. “I’ll drink to that,” I mutter before sitting up and swallowing a mouthful.
She wags a finger at me. “But that means we have to be on our best behavior when and if we make it back to Ilya.” Her gaze drops to the ring hugging her finger. “Kitt noticed that this was on the wrong finger from the night you came to my rooms. So no more sneaking around. Let’s just… enjoy this time together.”
Because we won’t get it again.
I hear the unspoken words hanging between us. They mock me, just like that glinting diamond she wears. Every moment with her is spent mourning the next, awaiting the day we speak for the last time.
She glances up at me. Clears her throat. “I went to his rooms last night.”
My blood chills. “Did you?”
Words spill from her mouth, sounding more and more like a confession. “I’m just trying to fix this… awkwardness between us. If we are supposed to spend the rest of our lives together, I want to at least enjoy being around one another. He is so stoic with me, and that is certainly not the Kitt I once knew, nor is that the brother he is toward you. So… I will keep befriending him in the hopes he will eventually reciprocate.”
She looks back at me expectantly, brows raised. I let her words sink in before washing them down with another swig of rum. It burns in my throat as I reach for the little purple book beside her. “What are you reading?”
My hand is quickly halted by her quick snatching of my wrist. “Did you even hear anything I just said?”
“I heard you.” My hands cup her face. “I did. I do. And if you want me to tell you the sheer extent of my jealousy, then I will. But I’d rather not waste what little time we have together talking about my brother. Especially while I sit on your bed and try to stop myself from doing something rash with my future queen.” My eyes flick between her wide ones. “But when we are back in that palace, I will let you see just how much I hate that you are not mine.”
Paedyn’s mouth parts. “Okay. I… um…” It seems I’ve rendered her speechless. She clears her throat before trying again. “What was it you asked?”
My smile is wicked. “Your book, darling.”
“Right.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s one I loved as a child. Calum brought a few for me.”
I place a hand on her thigh, leaning in to watch her flip open the cover. Faded illustrations are scattered throughout the pages, as are several pencil markings I can’t quite make out.
“My father used to read them to me,” she says softly. “This one was my favorite.”
“Tell me about it,” I murmur.
My request makes her smile. “It’s about phoenixes and other mystical creatures I always wished to meet. But it was the girl in this story that I liked most.”
She pauses on a random page, running her finger over a faint message scribbled there in crooked handwriting.
I want to be powerful like her.
Paedyn shakes her head at the words before closing the book. “It’s just a silly story.”
I watch her for a long moment, though she avoids my gaze. “And the other books?”
“Mostly magic and worlds I wanted to escape to.” She sounds oddly bashful. “Worlds where I might have fit in.”
I shift, laying my head back onto her lap. “So which one will you be reading to me?”
Her whole face lights up, and it is a beautiful thing to behold. “Really?”
“I’m all ears, Gray.”
Beaming, she flips to the front of that purple book. “Phoenixes it is, then.”
My eyes fall shut when soft words begin spilling from her mouth. I’m quickly lost in the story, in the hypnotic voice that strings it together. The rocking ship lulls me into that fleeting sense of peace while her fingers comb through my hair, tickle my skin.
I picture this version of us, far in a future that will never come to pass. A happy ending in which I lie on Paedyn’s lap, listening to her read until the day I fade into a distant memory.
But that is nothing more than a silly story of my making.
So I revel in the present, in the moments where we hide from the inevitable. She reads until the sun tires and dips beneath the waves. Until darkness drapes the room and smothers each word on the page.
Paedyn quiets, brushing a strand of hair from my brow. At the sound of her book snapping shut, I lift my gaze to her shadowed one above me. “Do you—?”
Muffled stomping from beyond the door has me swiftly sitting up. Glancing at each other, we strain to hear the commotion coming from the main deck. Clapping follows the pounding of boots, creating a symphony of chaos.
“Is that…?” Paedyn quiets at the growing sound of music.
“That,” I say, grinning into the darkness, “is the sound of a poorly played fiddle.”
I don’t give her a chance to reply before I’m pulling her off the bed. Sputtering, she manages, “What are you doing?”
I turn to face her, lifting the hand that isn’t wearing my brother’s ring. My lips find the pad of her thumb. She sucks in a breath at the intimacy of it, at the meaning buried beneath. “My pretty Pae, would you like to dance?”
Her smile seems to brighten the darkness. “I would never pass up the chance to stomp on your toes, Malakai.”
I tug her close, hold her tight. She knows exactly what she’s doing. My name means nothing to me until she speaks it. Nothing until she claims it as her own.
I kiss it off her lips, taste the very power she holds over me. My hand cups the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her short hair. She’s clutching my shirt and pulling me against her—
Another chorus of stomps has us breaking apart and breathing heavy. Paedyn laughs in that intoxicating way that makes me want to pull her mouth back to mine. But she’s grabbing my hand and swinging the door open before I get the chance. I’m being tugged out into the hall and toward the double doors ahead. With a quick smile over her shoulder, she drops my hand and pushes them open.
The deck sprawls before us, bathed in moonlight. Men and women of all ages dance in time to the fiddle’s melody, linking arms to spin around the wood. The crew claps and stomps and crudely sings along to a song that belongs out at sea.
Paedyn steps forward, seeming unsure even as she smiles at the scene. Spotting us from the makeshift circle of bellowing men, Leon strides over, looking less stoic than he had this morning, though the bottle of rum in his hand is likely to thank for that.
As way of greeting, he answers the questioning look Paedyn wears. “The crew always celebrates a tame day at sea. Today has been especially smooth sailing considering the Shallows’ reputation.”
The ship rocks slightly in agreement, its hull cutting easily through lazy waves. Leon nods to the rowdy group. “You’re welcome to join. Have some rum. Dance. Oh, and Sam’s fiddle is out of tune, but believe me, it’s been worse.”
I offer an arm to Paedyn. “Should I hold your shoes now, or wait for you to lose them?”
“Maybe I’ll just throw them at you.” She smiles sweetly. “So you can find them easier.”
My gaze lazily explores her face. “Vicious little thing.”
When we step into the circle, Paedyn wastes no time before clapping to the beat. I watch her smile at the dancing before us, but more importantly, I watch those eying her closely. Some scowl at her presence while others barely notice the future queen among them. And before I’m dragged into a dance, I memorize the faces of those glaring men.
Paedyn hooks her arm through mine before we are stepping in a circle. She laughs, picking up our pace and flipping around to take my other arm. We do this until I’m out of breath, until my mouth hurts from smiling at her.
Rum is passed between us, as are the dance partners we link elbows with. The fiddle’s quick melodies have us stomping long into the night, clapping when our feet get sore. Before long, Paedyn is swaying beside a sailor, singing a ballad to the sea crashing around us.
I do this for her. Every dance. Every smile. She seems so much more alive away from Ilya, away from the reminder of everything she is not. But out here, even surrounded by Elites, we are all at the mercy of the sea. I think she finds comfort in that.
So I spin her in the moonlight. Smile when she laughs at my expense. And let her step on my toes.
