Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
James
It has been four days since I ran away from Captain Pestilence at the Panatoean market, five days since he kissed me.
A kiss I should hate, should loathe him for, but don’t.
Nothing has happened in the meantime. He didn’t exactly ignore me.
He greets me every morning, wishes me a good night when I retire to bed.
But nothing like the contact we used to have before.
My hut—not my room, but my hut as Pax told me—is never locked anymore.
I have not asked about it. None of the pirates ever took the time to explain it to me.
I am not even sure if it is a mistake or if they have realized I am not just going to escape, not when I have no idea how to get back to Silvermist Castle and my brothers.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see movement, a flash of red structured velvet that has become a familiar sight now.
One I taught myself to avoid at all costs, now though my eyes are not drawn to the strong arms wrapped in the velvet, to the hand with long, calloused fingers.
No, my attention is drawn to a rolled-up piece of parchment he secures to his black leather belt.
Not the stunning map on vividly colored paper I wished to buy for Matthew.
But a map that has been used, a map I can be sure is correct, and can lead me back to Silvermist Castle.
I need to find my brothers before I return home.
Tonight, when Killian takes watch again, I will sneak to his quarters and steal his map and compass.
We are no longer docked, but we must at some point in time dock again, when the ship needs to be restocked.
I will escape the boat, and then I will leave, never to return again.
Meanwhile, I just need to gain their trust, or Killian’s, and he seems more than eager to give it to me.
“You seem happier to be here, landlubber. Finally got your sea legs?” Samuel teases me during dinner, hours later. Maybe in another life we could have been friends. He is a funny guy and wickedly honest, making me wonder why he looks up to Killian so much.
“Perhaps,” I start answering him, “I mostly found my will to go back home, but I understand now your beloved Captain was right. Peter is not who I thought he was.” Instantly gray eyes find mine.
His glass raises, no longer in a mock salute as he has done so many times before.
This one seems more like a salute in respect.
One I answer with a meek smile, as if I am still hesitant to do even that.
After dinner, I retreat to my hut immediately.
I still feel little to no desire to spend my time with these pirates.
Even when, in all fairness, I can no longer call them savages anymore.
Their cruelty, their violence, is out in the open.
They are honest about what they do and their reasoning behind it.
Their reasoning is fair—they protect their own, like I do.
As much as it pains me to acknowledge, Peter’s cruelty is vile, despicable in its dishonesty.
Knowing he manipulated me to the extent that even our most intimate moments were orchestrated, clings to me like muddled snow to winter boots.
Soiled, cold seeping into your very bones.
I am worried that if I cannot wash this filth off me, it will possibly kill parts of me.
I was at risk of my heart getting frostbitten.
I am contemplating bathing yet again—not that it is of any use. Or it hasn’t been so far. The putrid reality that clings to me is clinging to my soul, settled in my entire being. It is not on the surface.
Suddenly, there is a knock at my door, interrupting my thoughts.
From all the faces I expected—and very few faces came to mind—Killian’s was the last I expected to see when I opened the door.
“If you’re getting your sea legs for whatever reason, you will need to be able to swim.
If only so you don’t die during your grand escape.
” It is an offer for a freedom I never had.
Not back home, where my parents had neither the time nor the means to teach me.
A freedom Peter said was unnecessary, a danger.
Another lie, no doubt. Yet the idea of accepting something like this from him, from Captain Pestilence, feels too intimate.
You did not feel that way when he kissed you, my traitorous mind screams at me.
For a moment, my instincts scream at me to pull Killian closer, kiss him again, see how mad I can drive him.
Not just out of my desire for him. But to have the power again, to be the one to decide who touches me and who doesn’t, not prompted by someone playing me a silly song on his pan flute.
Killian kidnapped me. I should not feel any kind of desire for yet another villain. I just need to prove a point.
“If you’re just going to keep gaping at me with your mouth open.
I prefer you do it on your knees, I could make good use of it,” he says, lips curling up in a smirk.
How dare he, and still I do not pull him closer.
I cannot use him for my own gain, I cannot be as despicable as Peter has been towards me.
“I am just confused at the fact you seem to offer me a kindness, so I am merely waiting on your little jab at either Peter or me,” I say, tightening my arms over my chest, as if appearing closed off can actually close me off, protect me from all the hurt.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, he actually mumbles.
“I try to tell myself I am a better man than Peter is, and I still hope I am. But it seems as though I lost more than just Celeste in the past years, I lost a part of me. Being around people that have known me as merely the Crown Prince and their Flotilla officer has let my bitterness grow unseen.” His tone shifted, softer, flatter, like he was reciting something or speaking his thoughts out loud.
I just listen to him, and for the first time since he dragged me away from the only home I knew here in Silvermist—a home that had been a castle in the sky.
I am not just listening to him because I want to see if he says something I can use against him.
No, this time it is because I feel it in my soul, the ache of not being able to be there for your siblings. An all-encompassing ache, I felt too often after my mother fell ill.
“What do I need for these swimming lessons?” I ask, wanting to change the topic, to free Killian from the feeling of living through that pain.
“Oh, uhm, yes, the swimming lessons, just a clean pair of underwear. If you swim fully dressed, you will become too heavy and sink to the bottom. That’s kind of counterproductive for swimming lessons.”
“Okay,” I mumble, grabbing a clean pair of underwear, wondering where I am going to get changed. Or how we are going to swim, I sure as hell hope he doesn’t expect me to jump off the ship for my swimming lessons.
“Where are we doing this? And why are we doing this?” I ask and for a few long minutes I feel like he is not going to answer me. Until he speaks up: “Because believe it or not, I’d rather not see you drown.”
“As for where, there is ballast water in the lower decks of the ship, it’s fresh ocean water.
We fill it up or let some out depending on the ballast we need, since we’re at open sea right now it should be enough to swim in, without any real risk of you drowning.
The water should not come up higher than your chest if you stand in it,” he explains, emotionless, and the flatness in his voice gets to me.
It shouldn’t, I hate him, or I did from the moment he kidnapped me.
Not the fact that he got me away from a lying abuser, who would lie about the color of his own eyes if it benefited him.
Nor the fact that his reason for doing all of this, for hunting Peter, is to get his younger sister back take away from the fact that he did all of that.
That he tried to kill me on more than one occasion, or that is what I have been telling myself lately.
“Okay, that sounds good. I mean, I guess you’re right about me needing swimming lessons,” I manage to stammer out.
Fucking hell, I am unable to even say thank you when he is showing me a kindness.
He just nods, watching me get a second pair of underwear.
I have no idea where I will change into a dry pair after swimming, but I don’t ask about it.
He seemed genuinely hurt when I reacted so coldly, stammering he was right.
“I always wanted swimming lessons, you know,” I say as we have been walking for a while.
Once again, discovering hallways I never knew were here before.
It’s amazing how I never accidentally walked into one of them before.
“So, why didn’t you? I mean I get why Pe…
never mind. Were you unable to get swimming lessons back on Earth,” Killian asks, did he just stop himself from bashing Peter again?
That is so unlike him, in the back of my mind I know we always got into arguments when we discussed anything Peter related.
I just refuse to acknowledge what that means.
What the reason for this change of heart could be.
Answering his question about my swimming lessons is far easier.
“No, I… my parents didn’t have a lot of money, so they could not hire an instructor, and they could not spare the time either.
They worked really hard, only when mom got sick did I start working to help out.
Before that, we all hoped I could become a scholar,” I say, telling him far more than just the simple answer to his question.
“I can see that you would be one fierce scholar, though, well-read and passionate, a dangerous combination. Scholars like that back in Veridian Vale are adored or hated, often at the same time. There is no in-between,” he answers me.
Humans, in their arrogance, have never considered the other eight realms much, we know they exist, but we just ignore them, feeling like we are the only realm, the only race we need to think about.
Only here aboard the Obsidian Oath have I learned that Veridian Vale is the realm of the Fae, since Killian is the Crown Prince of the fae that must be his homeland.
He is telling me more about his life before Silvermist, as I had. There is no need for me to find out more info about the pirates to aid Peter anymore. In fact, if he would come here, I would fight him with the pirates.
“Let me guess, the fae are all about appearances, sticking to traditions?” The words fall from my lips without thinking about it, for no other reason than to understand him better.
“You’re right, I always dreamed of making Veridian Vale less strict when it would be my time to rule.
Now I am not even sure if I am allowed back home.
My parents will most likely welcome Celeste with open arms. She didn’t have as much choice to go against their wishes, like you, she was manipulated.
Me, however…” There is a pain in his words that is hard to ignore.
“Killian,…” His steps come to an abrupt halt as I use his name for the first time, so abruptly that I bump into him.
“Wow, you know my name. Who would have guessed?” His words are a mockery again. Only this time I see them for what they are, a defense mechanism. Like me, he is afraid of pity.
“Why would your parents not let you get back for going out to rescue their daughter, your sister? I know you told me your parents where against the idea. But still they must love you and Celeste, I am sure they will be happy to finally have the two of you back home,” I say ignoring the little jab about the fact I know his name.
The silk of his shirt brushing the bare skin of my arms, like a gentle caress as he spins around to face me.
“You don’t fucking get it, do you? I am a fae, I don’t get to frolic around and do as I want.” I shiver as he pushes me against the walls of the hallway we are in now.
“I am sure you don’t, it’s not like you go around kidnapping people, and then kissing them randomly, that would just be frolicking around wouldn’t it,” I snap, how dare he act like he is the only one in the world with responsibilities.
His eyes darken again, for a split second I no longer feels his breath brushing over my lips.
“That is not…” he starts, the second he falters, I pull him closer I kiss him.
I don’t want him to tell me him kissing me was just a mistake.
Or worse a ploy to get me to forget about Peter, I need to feel it was real.
No matter how fucked up and impossible it is.
I need to feel his kisses are real. I need to feel that even if I am the one initiating it, he loves it.
And boy does he deliver, the words he was about to say turn into an almost needy moan as he presses closer to me. The warmth of his body sinking into my skin, creating a delicious contrast with the cold metal of his hook caressing my cheek.
“Finally,” he murmurs against my lips like this is our first kiss. I don’t even care, all I want is for him to kiss me again.
“Hnngg,” I moan as he tugs my bottom lip before deepening the kiss again.
Using his hand to pull me closer against his body, into the space I didn’t even know was still there.
Everything around me fades into the distance, everything but the stubble of his beard scratching my skin, the cold metal of his hook pushing into my skin almost painfully.
His hand has drifted lower and is now squeezing my ass.
Until he pulls back suddenly, uttering one devastating word as I shiver at the sudden cold without his nearness. “Fuck.”