16. Sage
Sage
That loud, incessant knock I’d become accustomed to didn’t sound the next morning. But as I was getting dressed, there was a different one. A gentler knock that made it obvious it wasn’t Captain Hard Head.
I opened it to Anne, with a plate of eggs and sausage that made my hungry stomach growl.
After my argument, I just went back to the room, and went to bed after a lot of tossing and turning. Who was he to tell me I had to be good at something? He didn’t know anything about me. Or what I could or couldn’t do.
“Yes?” I said, annoyed she’d come to rub in my face that she’d been fed.
“I brought you breakfast…Can I come in?”
I blinked, not expecting that plate to be for me.
“Sure,” I said, stepping aside.
She stepped through the door, placed my plate down, and gestured for me to sit.
“Oh”—she pulled a fork from her pocket—“here.”
“Thanks.” I took it and sat down, digging in. It was so good, considering it was well past normal breakfast time.
“I’m sorry you didn’t eat last night,” she said. “I should have stayed to show you the laundry better.”
I swallowed my bite of sausage. For a second, I thought about making her feel worse in hopes she would keep feeding me, but that would be too cruel. “It’s not your fault, I’m just not good at that type of thing.”
“Nonsense. My aunt used to tell me anyone can learn anything. It just takes some time, and a good teacher.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so, I’m just not cut out for it.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but thankfully didn’t.
It was obvious she was trying to look for conversation in the silence, shifting herself back and forth.
“What’s this?” she asked, pulling up my blanket and examining the stitch work.
“Oh, just something I worked on yesterday.”
“It’s very pretty,” she ran a finger over the colorful threads, “I don’t think I could do something like this.”
I smirked, pointing my fork at her. “Didn’t you just say anyone could learn anything?”
“You’re right,” she said. “Maybe you can teach me.”
“Teaching isn’t something I’m very good at either.”
I finished the plate in record speed. I had only missed one meal, but I felt like I hadn’t eaten in ages.
“Thanks again for the food. I’m pretty sure Shadowhart plans to starve me forever,” I grumbled.
“He wouldn’t do that,” she said.
“Wouldn’t he?”
She shook her head. “It’s not in his nature. In fact, he asked me to bring this to you.”
My heart did a slight flutter, but I quickly squashed it. “Good, considering he forbade it last night.”
“You really don’t like him, huh?”
“I wasn’t hiding it.”
She hummed. “I think he’s the best. I’ve never had a better boss. When I first started, he gave me a fresh set of tools. I’d never had new tools, ever. And a lot of them I’d never seen before. He really sets you up for success.”
“Mhm,” I said. He might have been nice to her, but we were having very different experiences.
“He’s really not that—”
Her voice cut when there was a knock that this time I recognized.
I considered ignoring it, but after the second set of taps, Anne started to look nervous, and I didn’t want to deal with that either.
“Mornin’,” he said at the door.
“Good morning, Captain,” Anne said, standing as if she was ready to bow. It was very clear on this ship he was the royalty, if it was comparable.
I didn’t say anything, letting the two interact. She looked at him like he hung the moons in the sky. I would think they were fucking, but there was this almost… parental feel he gave off towards her that probably took that off the table.
Plus, the thought sent a hot rage through me that I was trying to ignore.
As she continued offering what sounded like a report, his gaze wandered. He looked around the room a bit before noting my totally empty plate.
His eyes then flicked to me. A devious smile befell his face, and I could feel the plan brewing in his mind.
“So you agreed, then,” he said, once Anne was done speaking.
She looked at me too, which is when I realized he was talking to me.
“Agreed to what?”
“Your work today,” he said. “That was the stipulation of the food, of course.”
I scowled right at Anne, who looked confused, but I’d been fooled before. And it was clear her loyalties lied with him. I shouldn’t have trusted her; that was a lesson I should have learned a long time ago.
“I’m sorry I didn’t—” she started.
“You should get dressed,” Shadowhart said. “Anne, you’re needed on the deck.”
She nodded to him, and turned, looking sorry to me before scampering off.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” he said.
“You’ll be waiting a long time,” I said, leaning back in the chair. “I’m not coming.”
“Yes, you are,” he said. “You accepted the food, remember.”
“She never told me that was the case.”
“That’s not my problem,” he said.
“I would think stooping to such lows would be beneath you.”
“I’m a pirate, flower,” he said. “I’ve stooped much lower than this.”
I meant to comment on what he called me, but he continued, not letting me get a word in edgewise.
“Ten minutes.” He shut the door behind his wavering tail, leaving no further room for argument.
Was this how someone like him lead? With tricks and bribery? He reminded me he was a pirate of course, but everyone whom I’d spoken to made him sound like a deity, not a conniving leader.
I sat, staring forward, being stubborn for at least eight of the ten minutes he gave me.
But finally, I got up and started to dress. I told myself it was out of curiosity only. And likely, I would spend an hour or two wherever, fuck up, and be able to return to my needlework. No harm, and maybe he’d finally understand.
This was to my benefit, really.
I selected a green dress today, but it was one I had no hope of tying myself into. There weren’t many I had that I could, and I ran out of them quickly.
Anne was gone, and there was only one person waiting for me.
Moons.
I opened the door, using one hand to hold the front of the corset high. Shadowhart wound away from the wall, but froze when he looked at me.
His gaze was… piercing. As if he was imagining something else, like what would happen if I dropped the dress.
It was the same way he looked at me the night of the ball. That cool, calculated gaze of his somehow managed to set my entire body on fire, even when it shouldn’t.
“I need help lacing it up,” I said, somehow managing not to bumble over my words.
“I have no idea how to do something like this.”
“A pirate who can’t tie a knot?”
He huffed, a very unamused sounding breath. “Can’t you wear something else?”
“No,” I said. “Now, if you want me to come, help me.”
“Fine.” I turned around and used the hand that wasn’t holding me up to move my hair aside. I should have plaited it already.
“What am I meant to do?” he asked.
“I laced it most of the way up,” I said. “You just need to tighten it and tie the bottom. Easy.”
“So you say.” He pulled at the top, the strings softly rustling. I felt the bodice tighten, but not nearly to the point I normally wore them. Not everyone wore their corsets tight, but I tended to.
“You can pull it tighter,” I said.
“This is already very near your skin.”
“I normally wear it tight,” I retorted.
He gave it a slight bit more pull. Too loose.
“More,” I instructed.
“This is enough,” he smoothed his fingers over the strings, “I don’t know how you’ll breathe.”
“You get used to it,” I said.
“Well there’s no need. This is tight enough.”
I gave up on arguing and let him finish. It was good enough to stay up, so it was enough for me for now.
The knot he tied in the bottom was clearly not a bow like I was used to. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the straps tied into almost a ball.
“Is that all?” he said.
Though his tone was irritated, his hands stayed rested at the small of my back.
“It is,” I said, softer than I meant to.
He pulled his hands away, and I missed the touch for a moment. But that must have been because it’d been so long since I’d been touched. Normally, I didn’t go a week without ending up in someone’s bed.
I must just be lonely.
“Let’s go then.”
He led me further through the ship, past the laundry room I destroyed and a few other doors I hadn’t been inside of yet.
We were almost by his quarters, but stopped just short.
The door opened to a relatively large space for it being on a ship. Maps and charts littered the walls, some marked with pins and colored string. A chalkboard was the only blank space anywhere, and looked to be recently erased.
A large table took up the entire center of the room with a mountain of books, papers, inks, and quills scattered across it.
Three empty chairs were awaiting. It looked like one of those meeting rooms I’d been closed out of growing up.
While Sybil, and sometimes even Sorcha, was asked to attend, I was told it wasn’t important for me.
“What am I doing here?” I asked.
“Research,” he said. “Sit.”
I did as I was instructed, which I wasn’t normally good at, but there was something commanding about his voice, something that made me want to listen to him.
He lowered next to me, I noticed not taking up a chair. But it seemed he didn’t have to. He rested on his curled-up tail, leaning back in it like it was his own personal chair.
Shadowhart pulled one of the books closer to me, the stack towering high. Where did they get all of these books on a ship?
“Start here,” he said, gesturing to the stack. “Take any notes you find.”
“What am I looking for?” I asked.
“Information about this,” he said, wrapping a finger around my necklace.
I gasped, and grabbed his finger. I meant to push it away, but instead held it closer.
“Why are you looking for that?” I asked. “Isn’t this woman supposed to get it off.”
“Indeed,” he said. “But don’t you want to know what it does exactly?”
“Not particularly.” What if I found out it was… killing me, slowly at least. Or slowly turning me into a fish. Or something else more awful I’ve yet to think of.
“Well, I do,” he said. “There must be a text somewhere for something crafted like that.”