Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The galley and mess are empty when I walk in and look around. They remind me of the tavern Dane took me to back in Blackwood with wooden tables and chairs scattered around the space, and a counter that lines the far wall. A stack of plates sits next to it and I walk over to pick one up.
Handles stick out of the counter’s surface, and I reach to lift one.
Steam rises in my face and I realize the galley is different from the tavern back at camp.
I look inside each one, my stomach continuing to gurgle with the aroma that wafts out of the compartments before piling food high on my plate.
A small table shoved in the far corner catches my eye. I really don’t want to talk to anyone, especially after what happened this morning, along with Sig’s revelation about the beach, so I try to hide as best as I can in this open room.
I slide into a chair, my back to the door, and slouch over my plate, hoping my posture says ‘fuck off’ as much as I feel. Commotion from behind me echoes into the room a moment later as Castaways file into the mess, and laughter and yelling quickly overtake the quiet.
I set my elbow on the table and rest my head on my hand, turning to face the wall, trying even harder to deter anyone from sitting with me.
After only a few bites, I’m startled by the chair beside me scraping along the floor before a body plops down into it.
Apparently my body language attracted them instead of deterred, like a moth to a flame.
“Hello, new girl.”
Peering to the side, I see a girl, adjusting herself in the seat, and watching me. She isn’t alone. Another girl sits down across from her, heaping plates of food steaming in front of them. Both look about my age, and suddenly I miss Mara.
“Hello,” I say warily.
“I’m Stassia. That’s Auralie. You’re Lennox,” the girl next to me says. Her energy level is jarring for as unfriendly as I feel. She might even rival Edmond for the most chipper attitude.
“I am.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Auralie says. “Did Sig show you around the ship?”
I drop my arm down and readjust, so I’m sitting up straighter. Clearly my posture did nothing to deter them, so now I’m going to have to endure their company during this meal. As frustrating as it is, it might benefit me. This can be the first step in my plan.
I nod silently and take another bite.
“You’ll get used to it,” Stassia says. “It’s hard to adapt at first, being so closed in and all, but now it just feels like home.”
Home. She doesn’t understand what that word means to me.
No place has ever felt like home to me until camp.
Until Dane. The castle was a prison. This ship is a prison.
Camp is the only place I’ve truly wanted to return to, filled with people I care about.
I don’t care how long she thinks I will be here, no amount of time is ever going to make this place feel like home.
“I told you both to leave her alone,” Sig says as she walks up to the table and settles into the empty space in front of me.
“And I ignored you,” Stassia says. “Why wait? It’s not like she’s going anywhere. She might as well start getting to know all of us now instead of hiding in the corner.”
I huff a laugh, eyes trained on my plate, and push the food around. Looks like she knew exactly what I was doing and sat down anyway.
“We wanted to make sure she feels comfortable. We know the transition is hard.” I look up to find Auralie smiling sweetly at me. Her expression actually looks genuine, and I shift uncomfortably in my chair.
“So, Lennox, where are you from?” Stassia asks as she stabs a vegetable and pops it in her mouth, chewing daintily.
Sig looks up at me, waiting for my answer, the look on her face unreadable.
“I’m from Blackwood,” I say flatly.
“Ooh, isn’t that the kingdom with the really attractive king?” Stassia says, her eyebrows raising as her eyes widen.
Sig presses the end of her fork to her lips, trying to hide a smile.
“Uh, no, he’s not. He’s old and cruel.” I make a face, trying to brush off this topic while also completely baffled at the ease of their conversation with someone they have never spoken to before.
None of these women have any idea the king is my father, and I have no intention of telling them.
I need to shift the focus away from Blackwood’s royalty as soon as possible.
Stassia makes an incredulous noise. “Well, of course not now. At least he was when I left. I assume he’s aged now,” she says.
She must have been on the island for a while, if she remembers my father being a young king. I glance between the girls as they wait for me to respond. It makes sense now why they feel so comfortable with each other. They’ve been under Weston’s trance for years.
When I offer nothing more, Auralie breaks the silence. “Stass and I are from Akarion. Sig’s from Berrendahr.”
“So that’s why you know your way around a ship,” I say, looking at Sig.
“I’ve also been here for a while, so that’s mainly why. But yes, I grew up around ships. I know how to sail.”
Blackwood shares a border with Berrendahr, a seaside kingdom whose ships are responsible for the movement of our lumber.
They’ve always been an ally and partner in trade, yet I’d met no one from the kingdom.
Sig is the first. The same goes for Akarion, though I should have met both at my ceremony months ago.
“How long have you been on Dawnlin, Lennox?” Auralie asks.
“Not very long. A few months, maybe?”
“Wow, and you found the healing waters that fast? Impressive. It took me a while, but I made it eventually,” Stassia says, and Auralie nods along with her.
Ice slides up my spine and I do everything I can not to show any emotion on my face. How does she know I found them? Did Fin talk? Why would he tell them instead of Weston? Or is this just a tactic to get me to admit it, then pressure me into giving them up?
“What makes you think I found them?” I ask, keeping my face straight.
“We’ve all found them. Every one of us,” Stassia says matter-of-factly, gesturing around the room.
“But none of us have been worthy,” Auralie adds.
“So now we’re here,” Stassia says with way too much happiness for the heaviness of the statement. “That’s why you’re here.”
My jaw drops, unable to hide my surprise. They’ve all found them, and no one has been deemed worthy? How could that be? Every single person here was a Voyager before Weston brainwashed them, so how could every single person be unworthy?
Or are they lying?
Sig focuses on her plate, not joining in the conversation but clearly listening.
I don’t know how to respond, and I don’t want anything I say to tell them more than they should know. So I remain quiet, my mind reeling at this new information, trying to pick apart how they delivered it to find the manipulation.
“Who did you come here for?” Auralie asks. She pushes her plate forward, finished with her food and leans her forearms on the table.
Both Stassia and Auralie seem so genuine, like they actually are trying to get to know me.
The behavior takes me aback, because I’m not used to anyone treating me like I am anything but royalty, or accepting me so quickly and easily.
Mara even gave me a difficult time at first. It makes me wonder if my interpretation is wrong, and the behavior is fake and part of Weston’s long game to make me feel comfortable.
Either way, it’s part of my game to make them think I am getting used to them, so I need to give them something.
“My mother,” I say. “The healers told us it was time to give up hope, and I wasn’t ready to yet.”
Their faces fall, softening in understanding.
“What about all of you?” I ask, looking to Stassia first. This might be a game played to escape, but it feels like I can finally use the skills I’ve honed of politicking at court.
Showing interest in them is one of the earliest lessons, and asking a simple question could help me learn a lot of information.
Learning more about them might be helpful, but I also risk making them seem more human.
It isn’t their fault that Weston has been deceiving them this entire time.
They came here for someone just like I did.
A good person may still live deep inside them, even if they are doing cruel things now.
Maybe I can draw that good person out and remind them of the Voyagers they once were.
“My best friend,” she says, the enthusiasm dropping from her voice slightly.
“My betrothed,” Auralie adds. A tear falls down her cheek and she wipes it away.
I look at Sig last.
“My father,” she murmurs.
Silence falls over the table at the admissions.
Everyone sitting here found the healing waters and was deemed unworthy.
The island gave us hope, then ripped it away.
Was it simply because Dawnlin knew Weston waited on the other side, ready to snatch the waters from anyone who was granted them?
Could that be the reason none of us got them?
And if that is true, how could these women stand to work alongside someone who continues to take the hope away from everyone who finds it?
How could Sig stand on that beach and tie each of us up, when she knows what it feels like to come to terms with that loss?
And it’s not just for us, here now, but for anyone who may need Dawnlin in the future.
My blood boils but I stay quiet, willing the hardened emotions to come over me again. I try not to focus on the details that make these women seem more real, more like me.
“Is anyone on tonight?” Sig asks, breaking the silence.
“I am,” Auralie says. “I need to go get ready.”
“On what?” I ask, confusion replacing my anger from moments ago.
“On shift,” Stassia says, as if it’s obvious what she means.
I glance to Sig, and she shrugs it off. “You don’t need to worry about it yet,” Sig says. “Cap will explain later.”
As soon as her words register, my stomach sinks. It’s getting dark, the night fast approaching, and they’re talking about leaving. They must be going to the island to hunt us, the exact reason we never leave at night.
And they think I’m just going to accept it blindly.
“If you think I’m going to kidnap my friends, you’re crazy,” I snap, the anger spilling over into my voice.
The girls fall silent and exchange looks.
Sig speaks first. “Like I said, you don’t need to worry about it right now. Cap will explain when the time is right.”
The time will never be right for me to bring more Voyagers here, no matter how hard I am working to make them think they’re gaining my trust.
“You’ll have a ship duty though. We all have them,” Stassia adds.
“You’ll get yours tomorrow,” Sig says.
A ship duty. I’ve never had a job before, or a responsibility or chore, not counting all my lessons and training.
There were no assigned responsibilities back at camp.
The island took care of everything we needed so we could focus on finding the healing waters, but it seems things are different here.
My eyes start to droop with the comfort of a full belly, and I cover up a loud yawn. Sig notices and pushes her chair back as she stands.
“Let’s get you a bunk,” she says.
“I need to head out,” Auralie says, following Sig’s lead. “See you tomorrow. We’re happy you’re here with us, Lennox.”
She smiles before grabbing her plate and heading toward the galley. I didn’t get a chance to say or do anything besides stare at her, dumbfounded.
I’m not happy to be here, and it is absurd that they don’t realize that. I don’t care how welcoming they are trying to be. This isn’t where I belong.
We gather our plates and drop them in a bin near the door before walking toward the first floor.
By the time I reach the top of the steps, I’m a little winded, and I curse myself for the food boycott that weakened me so much.
There was no way of knowing what Weston would do to me, so I had to stick to Edmond’s training.
I didn’t have a choice, and I’m paying for it now.
I trail behind Sig as she leads me down the hallway toward the crew’s quarters. We are barely halfway when I hear heavy footsteps approaching from behind.
“Princess.”
Weston.
I stifle a groan and squeeze my eyes shut. Why can’t this man just give me a break from him and let me go to sleep? Why can’t he just let me blend into the crew and let Sig handle me? I don’t want to see his face again for years.
Sig stops, so I do too, and both of us turn toward the voice.
Weston stands in the hallway, his hulking frame taking up so much space I can barely see past him.
“Where are you going?” He asks, his face passive as he looks between Sig and me.
“She’s tired, so I was going to get her a bunk, Cap.”
I stay quiet, waiting for him to dismiss us with Sig’s completely adequate excuse.
Weston shakes his head before his eyes flicker to mine. He places his hands on his hips, and I stay focused on him, trying not to follow the movement with my gaze.
“No, princess. Your bed’s not that way. It’s this way.” He quirks his neck over his shoulder, gesturing down the hallway behind him. “Follow me.”