19. Adrian
Adrian
Sage was still fluttering through the dress shop, not a care in the world. She ran her hands over fabrics and pulled out what felt like every dress, examining it before usually deciding to put it back, with only a handful being chosen.
I’d never seen someone so particular about what they wore. Everyone on the ship wore the same variation of things. Laundry got mixed up all the time and no one seemed to mind. But Sage really took care in everything.
My eyes scanned the room. The shop keeper had stopped by, and he and Sage were in a discussion about appliqué… whatever that was.
The rack next to me had garment after garment.
I reached for one, trying to see for even a moment whatever she did.
It was a black dress. The top was more of a square cut, simple but pretty.
I tried to imagine her in it. The way the skirt would swish like the waves on the beach around her feet.
I’m sure it would be pretty, but everything she wore was.
“You like that one?” she asked coming up behind me.
“As much as I liked the rest.”
She plucked it from my hands. “Might as well try it on.”
An argument danced on the tip of my tongue. We didn’t have time to try things on, but she turned and headed towards the back before I actually formed the words.
I followed her all the way to a small area where there were curtains, a mirror, and a small couch that looked like half my body weight would break. She disappeared behind one of the changing areas and I coiled my tail tight, resting on it while I waited.
This was not how I expected today to go nor was it how I wanted it to go. It would be over soon, I told myself. And then I could get back to my mission.
My hat sat heavy on my head today. Sometimes I barely remembered it was there, while other days it felt like a weight, keeping me steady.
I took it off and examined it. It was passed down to me from Tungesten, and down from the previous captain to him.
Many generations of the Violet Ghost captains wore it, and their legacy followed me closely.
Made me consider the legacy I’d make many times, but I still had plenty of time to figure that out.
At least I hoped. I was only thirty, but Tungesten had been just pushing fifty.
She came out a few moments later, wearing the black dress I’d handed her.
It looked similar to how I’d envisioned it, but what I didn’t think about was the dip in her waist you could see with the lower skirt, and the way her breasts sat higher above the square cut, pushed together in a flattering way that drew my eye more than it should.
Maybe I was starting to understand why people chose different clothes after all.
“What do you think?” she asked.
She stood in front of the mirror, taking a close inventory of herself. Her eye was uncharacteristically sharp, as if looking for each and every flaw.
“It looks good,” I tell her.
She huffs, as if I said something offensive. “Thanks.”
“I said it was good,” I said in confusion. “Is that not… acceptable?”
Sage shrugs. “Good is just… good I guess.”
What a confusing woman.
“Isn’t good… good?”
She turned quickly. “Good is fine,” she snapped. “But I want to look more than good. A chocolate chip cookie is good, but a piece of cake is delectable.”
I sort of understood what she meant, but, “Isn’t that subjective? I’m sure some people prefer cookies to cake.”
“Then those people are objectively wrong,” she said.
I took a breath, figuring I’d try again. “Though it isn’t as… ornately decorated or brightly colored as the rest of your wardrobe, it… fits you well. And looks… pretty.”
She looked at me for a moment. Was that incorrect too? It felt impossible to say the right thing to her sometimes.
I wasn’t sure what her expression was, until her cheeks began to pink.
“T-that’s better,” she stuttered. “I’ll get this one.” Before I could say anything more, she bustled behind the changing curtain and out of my eyesight.
Apparently I did say the right thing.
After many more try-ons, and more compliments that never used the word ‘good’, we were finally back on track. My arms doubled in fullness, with two more bags added to my load.
We’d made it pretty far, the library just up ahead now. Only a few more yards and we’d be there. I hoped Bramwell found something of use. Two of us were definitely better than one in this situation, but I knew either way he was competent.
“Oh my moons!” Sage’s voice said as she began wandering off again. I tried to grab her, but with the bags, it was no use.
“Where are you going?” I asked, being led again towards a shop to the side.
The Gardening Can, the sign read above the shop.
“A gardening shop?” I asked aloud.
She opened the door, and the fresh scent hit instantly. Soil and plants had an earthy smell I wasn’t used to. Yerev was full of deserts, and I normally had the salty ocean air to keep me company nowadays. But it was nice, in its own way.
I had thought Sage was excited to see the dresses, but that was nothing compared to the way her eyes gleamed when she saw these plants.
She walked through the aisles carefully, eyeing each and every one, making comments as she went.
“These ciannas are growing really well.”
“The Dragon’s Flax is such a pretty white. They must have a lot of bark in here to give good aeration.”
“The yaisys need more water, and probably a larger pot.”
Her knowledge of each one was interesting to me. The memory of helping her move plants around the manor felt like a distant moment with everything happening, but it only happened a short time ago.
Then I caught a glance at one I recognized. It was the golden ones with the blue center I’d seen in the front of the manor.
“What are these called?” I asked her.
She came over to examine the plant with me. “Lylids. Very pretty.”
“Very,” I agreed. Seeing her next to them only reminded me more.
“Have you always liked plants this much?” I asked, as she ran her fingers over a large leaf.
She looked at me guarded, as if I’d asked her something personal. “I think they’re pretty.”
I raised my brow. “You know the name of them all, and the best way to care for them, because you think they’re pretty?”
She shrugged. “So, what if I do?”
“Then I’d say you’re lying.”
“What do you think it is then? Since you’re sure you know me so well.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Plants… depend on you to care for them, especially inside. I could see that as appealing.”
“How so?” She still didn’t look at me.
“Same way as my ship.”
She huffed a laugh. “Your ship isn’t alive.”
“Sure it is,” I said, eyeing a trowel now that had flower designs carved all over it. “The sails are its lungs, the helm is the brain, the hull contains the organs. And all of us are the vital cells, working to keep it going.”
Her finger tapped her chin. “When you put it like that, I suppose so.”
It was quiet for a bit, until she finally said, “I think I do like having something depend on me. But I also think I like… having a task I know I can succeed at. Plants are very straightforward and tell you exactly what they want from you. More sun, more water, less water. It’s easy to get right.”
The vulnerability in her statement took me by surprise. “Another thing you’re good at,” I said. “I couldn’t keep a plant alive to save my life.”
“You so could,” she said. “You keep a whole ship of people alive.”
“It’s very different. Anne can tell me if she’s feeling ill, and Lou can tell me if there’s a food shortage. A plant just sits silently in the corner. Only its subtleties can be read. I don’t have much skill in subtleties, but it seems you do.”
That light pink shade that matched at least a few of her dresses touched her cheeks gently. I was becoming quite fond of the color.
“Paying attention isn’t a skill,” she countered. “Here, I’ll show you.”
She looked around at all the plants carefully.
“This one,” she said, pulling out a small pot with green stalks sticking from it, little green leaves with white speckles along each one.
“Vazlaire is the perfect one,” she said. “They’re durable and wilt very noticeably when they need water. And they only need a bit of sun.”
She shoved the plant into my hands, and I had no choice but to take it and slither after her to the counter.
“A great pick for indoors,” the clerk said.
I paid for the plant, which was apparently now mine, before we left. Now I had five bags and a plant all in my arms.
But when we left the store Sage looked… lighter. A smile graced her lips that I’d only seen one other time, and felt so rare it was the best kind of treasure.
“We should probably get to the library before Bramwell thinks we abandoned him,” she said, starting towards the building.
But I was stuck there, tail coiling as if I were in quicksand. Her lightness had stunned me in a way I wasn’t used to.
Sage turned when she realized she was alone. “You coming?”
I swallowed, making myself move. “Yeah, let’s go.”