Chapter 32: Persnickety on the Persephone
Maeve
I stood near the railing of the ship, looking down at the boat that was bobbing on the water several stories below as Cleo gripped the ladder and slowly made her way up the side of the ship, her eyes fixed on my face.
Robbie was behind her, his voice carrying in the breeze as he encouraged her to keep climbing.
I grabbed her shoulders and helped her over the railing as she came within my reach. She was shaking, swallowing hard as her feet finally met the deck.
“That was terrifying,” she said, her voice trembling as she placed a hand over her heart.
I took her in my arms, squeezing gently before looking over her shoulder at Robbie as he came over the railing and landed with a sharp thud on the deck beside us.
A blond man was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, watching us. Watching me. I turned my head to look back at him, curiosity bubbling through my system.
He was one of those people that was truly beautiful. He looked as though he had been cut from marble by a skilled artist who crafted each chiseled feature with great care. He was deeply tanned, his eyes a vibrant hazel that were light enough to be almost golden in the fading sunlight.
This must be Cap,’ I thought, steeling my expression as I gave him a once-over. He was much younger than I thought he’d be, probably no older than Troy. And to own a boat like this? He must be absolutely loaded. Must be nice to steal for a living.
“Pull er up, boys.” Robbie said to the crew, stepping back as two men began to pull a crank that was slowly lifting the small boat out of the water. It knocked into the side of the Persephone as it climbed higher and higher with Troy and Myla still inside. The blond man stepped forward, the sunset casting a vivid red glow behind him as he gripped the railing and looked down.
I moved Cleo away from the railing as more crewmen stepped toward it, preparing to catch the small boat and lower it onto the deck.
A wiry, elderly man stepped forward, pulling on the sleeve of Robbie’s shirt, whispering something inaudible as the boat continued its ascent.
“Aye, yeah. Troy as a broken arm and the woman has a head wound. Neither could climb the ladder,” Robbie replied, his voice booming despite his attempt at a hushed whisper. Cleo paled, looking down at her feet.
“She’s going to be fine,” I coaxed, wrapping my arm around her shoulder.
“Cap!” Robbie bellowed, and the blond turned his head, confirming his identity. “Doc want’s em’ sent to the infirmary right away.”
“Of course,” the blond said, nodding in the direction of the elderly man, who nodded back and walked across the deck toward a set of large, wooden doors.
“See?” I whispered to Cleo. “They have a doctor on board. An infirmary, too.”
Cleo exhaled deeply, a little of the tension leaving her shoulders as the crewmen crowded the railing in front of us, their arms outstretched as Troy stood up in the small boat, holding Myla up to the crewmen with his good arm.
“What the hell did you get yourself into, Troy?” said the captain as Troy climbed over the railing, accepting the help of the crew.
“I have a lot to explain, Keaton,” Troy replied, but the captain wasn’t listening. Keaton was staring at Myla as she was laid out on a stretcher, his golden eyes fixed on her face and his hands trembling slightly as he began to reach down to touch her on the shoulder.
Cleo stiffened beside me, and I stepped forward to tell the man to get back, but Cleo’s hand shot out and grabbed my arm.
“Leave him be,” she said quickly, a strange expression lining her face. She was fiercely protective of Myla. Something about her behavior now made a chill run up my spine.
I looked back at the captain, Keaton, and watched as his expression began to twist with concern as Myla was carried away and through the double doors.
“What was that all about?” I said, not meaning to say it so loudly.
Keaton turned his head towards me, slowly, fixing me with a steely glare. “Ah,” he said, his voice lifted in a mocking, unfriendly lilt. “This must be Princess Maeve, the very reason Mirage is burning to the ground right now, hm?”
0.00%
13:32
Chapter 32: Persnickety on the Persephone
Igaped at him, taken aback by the comment. “How dare you speak to me in such a way.” I scoffed.
He took two long, quick strides and suddenly we were nose to nose, his golden eyes boring down into mine. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he snapped. “I do not care that you’re a princess. You’re a passenger on my ship. A fugitive, in fact, of Alpha Damian. I’m risking the lives of my crew by having you aboard.”
“I’ll leave then-”
“Oh, will you? Be my guest. Watch out for the sharks on your swim back to the shore,” he hissed.
I blanched, blinking and clearing my throat as I righted myself, tilting my chin upward in a show of defiance.
“You will address me as Captain. You will heed my orders. And if you ever hinder the safety of my crew or even so much as speak out of turn I will,” he paused, looking over his shoulder at Troy. “Do I have your permission to toss her overboard?”
Troy shrugged; a sideways smile plastered on his face. “You’re the captain.”
“I will have you tossed from this ship. Do you understand?” Keaton continued, his brow arched as he waited for my reply.
“It’s a yes or no question, darlin’.” He leaned in, the tip of his nose touching mine.
I swallowed, fighting the urge to take a step away from him but wanting to stand my ground. “Yes,” I murmured. “Whatever.”
Keaton nodded tightly, reaching up to dust a lock of my hair off my shoulder before giving me a dramatic smile and turning away, pointing at Cleo. “Are you the girl’s mother?” he asked, obviously talking about Myla.
Keaton signaled for Cleo to follow him and she nodded as he marched toward the set of doors leading down to the lower levels of the ship. He turned suddenly on his heel, Cleo nearly running into his chest as he skidded to a stop in front of her.
he motioned to Robbie, who was leaning on the rail next to Troy,
“Troy, meet me at the helm in fifteen minutes. We need to talk. And “show the princess to her quarters.”
Keaton and Cleo disappeared below deck, the doors closing firmly behind him.
Robbie kicked off the railing, sauntering over to me. I stiffened, squaring my shoulders. Troy noticed this and shook his head, exhaling deeply as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Come on, miss. You could use a rest, aye?” Robbie extended his hand to me, but I turned my head, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I will wait here for the captain to return, thank you very much. I have a few words I’d like to say to him.. in private.” I glared at Robbie, catching Troy’s face in my peripheral. He had an odd, slightly smug smile on his face as he cradled his injured arm.
Robbie pursed his lips, arching his brow toward Troy and shrugged one shoulder. “Well, that’d be you, wouldn’t it, while Cap’s indisposed at the moment?
“Yeah, you’re right Robbie. I’m the captain of this ship right now.”
I gawked at them both for a second, then threw my head back in laughter. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, miss, I did introduce myself as third captain. That’s how this all works, you see. Troy has been second in command since him and Cap were boys. Troy is the captain of the Persephone in his stead when Cap’s not on deck to give orders, like right now, for example.”
“Rethinking going to your quarters for a while, aren’t you?” Troy was grinning like an idiot. I hated him.
“Fine” ground out, walking forward with my chin jutting toward the sails, not making eye contact with Troy as I passed him. “Show me to my room, Robbie.”
“Right this way,” he said, giving Troy a knowing look as he opened the doors and motioned me through.
* Absolutely not!” I screeched, my hands firmly planted on my hips as I looked around the room. Troy’s room. Robbie shrugged helplessly, his palms toward the ceiling as he slowly backed out of the room.
“Sorry, miss. Was’na my call.”
“Get back here!” i charged at him, but he quickly shut the door, holding the knob in place as I fought to turn it from the inside.
“Take a nap, miss. You could use one!”
I didn’t hear the telltale sound of a lock clicking into place, which told me that Troy’s door couldn’t be locked from the outside, which was in my favor. I could leave whenever I wanted. I could go hide somewhere and sleep if I wished.
13:32
Chapter 32: Perspickety on the Persephone
But in that moment I was overcome by curiosity. I was alone, surrounded by Troy’s things.
And I did what anyone would do I started rummaging.
First, I pulled the drawers from the bedside table and dumped them on the bed, spreading out the contents across the patchwork quilt and standing back to take it all in Pencils. Dozens of them. A few wadded-up pieces of paper, dried up bottles of ink, and rocks, several rocks.
Pack-rat.” I said under my breath, using my arms to scoop up the contents of the drawers and arrange them in a neat pite in the center of the bed where I planned to leave them, wanting him to see that I had gone through his things.
On the far wall of the room was a set of built-in cabinets and drawers. I opened every single one, sifting through his clothes and tossing them on the ground at my feet as I emptied out the contents of the built-ins, finding nothing interesting or of substance. I sighed, looking around, my eyes settling on a large desk that was bolted to the wall.
Singo.
I sat in the chair, scooting myself forward and tucked in, going through the tiny drawers that ran down the length of one side of the desk. More pencils. Paper. A few worn-out books and several dozen thin scrolls that I unfurled one by one.
Maps, of course.
I felt a pang of regret suddenly, remembering the night I had crept into his room at the castle after the storm when my own room was in ruin. He had given me a book to use as a hard surface to write a letter on, a book of maps. A book he had loved.
It was likely gone now. He hadn’t brought anything with him. He hadn’t had time, trying to save my life and all.
“Don’t think about it, Maeve,” I said aloud, tucking the scrolls back in one of the drawers and continuing my exploration.
The surface of the desk was dusty, unused for some time. There was an unfinished sketch of what looked like the beginnings of a beach, a little crab creeping up a rock as a spray of water burst over the rock from behind. Another pang of guilt gripped me, making me think of the library, of his sketchbook. All of those beautiful pictures were gone.
Get a hold of yourself,” I said, tapping my fingers on the desk and picking up a sea shell that was sitting on its surface, turning it over in my hand before putting it down.
All I had learned from my total invasion of his privacy were the things I already knew. He liked to draw. He liked books. He liked maps. A simple man, really. I had been hoping to come across something I could use against him, maybe a box of trophies from his liaisons with women or a dead body hidden amongst his socks and underwear.
But there was nothing. He was just Troy. The same Troy I once knew as Aaron. I stood from the desk, looking around at the mess I had made. I was overcome with fatigue suddenly and sat on the edge of the bed.
Robbie had laid out a new outfit for me, a pair of trousers and loose top. They were men’s clothes, likely borrowed from one of the smaller crewmen. I pulled my soiled dress over my head and changed, unsure of how the loose top was supposed to fit. I tucked it into the snuggly fitted trousers and climbed into the bed, curling myself around the pile of Troy’s things.
*Stay mad at him, Maeve. For Gemma,” i said to myself as I began to drift into sleep. The pillow smelled like him, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of longing and unspeakable loss,
And it was all my fault, they were after me.
I let the tears fall
70.77%
13:32
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder
Yeah sorry full of crap clichés skipping chapters...
Really oh fn....off another weak heroine roll, her pack hated her, she was abused, why would she do this .... pfghhj off at another cliche novel. .... Nope...