Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“Lennox! Come with me!”
Fin’s voice carries across the room, pulling my focus from the book I’m reading. I look up to find him dragging Weston by the hand up the stairs to the first deck. He extends his other hand out toward me, flapping it up and down.
“Come on!” he calls out, then flashes me with a toothy grin.
I close the book and set it on the chair, only for Stass to snatch it out from behind me and flip it open to the first page.
“I want that back,” I say, before striding across the room toward the stairs.
“Mmhm,” she murmurs, her eyes not leaving the page to even acknowledge me.
Fin’s smile gets wider with every step until I’m next to him, wrapping my hand around his tiny fingers.
“Where are we going?”
“To my bed! Will you help tell my story tonight?” he says, his eyes wide and pleading as he looks up at me.
I glance up at Weston, catching the slight pink tinge to his cheeks.
He’s been telling Fin stories every night?
My mouth falls open slightly in disbelief. How can this man who cares so deeply about the people around him not want a family? Is his decades old friendship with my father worth the sacrifice of something he so clearly enjoys and desires?
“Of course,” I say, turning back to Fin. “But I’ve never told a bedtime story before, so you might need to help me.”
“Mister Weston can help you. He’s really good at them,” Fin says and yanks us both up the steps behind him.
Fin releases our hands just as we reach the door to the crew’s quarters and races inside, disappearing around the corner.
Weston shifts in the doorway, turning sideways, trying to keep his bulky body out of the way.
He gestures for me to enter, so I stride past him, my shoulder brushing his chest as I squeeze past in the narrow doorway.
I ignore the heat and tingles spreading over every point of contact and walk straight into the room, scanning the space for Fin, spotting him just as he jumps onto a bed that is tucked away into the corner of the room.
He flips his body around on the bed and slides under the blankets, pulling them to his chin and waiting for us.
I’m too aware of how close Weston walks at my back, close enough that if my steps were to stutter at all, he would bump into me.
Don’t do it, Lennox.
We reach his corner, and I sit down on the side of the bed, Weston kneeling beside my knees, facing Fin.
It’s obvious this is a nightly occurrence with how comfortable both of them look at being near each other.
My chest aches as I watch them silently, thankful Fin has someone that cares about him as much as I do.
“Any requests tonight?” Weston asks, as he leans his elbows on the edge of the bed, clasping his hands in front of him. Fin’s face lights up.
“I want Lennox to tell it!” he cries, looking past Weston to me expectantly.
The room is empty, the rest of the crew not yet turned in for the night, so I don’t have to worry about anyone listening to me stumble through trying to tell a story.
I’d heard plenty over the years from Edmond, but in this moment, my mind is blank of every single one, except for the one that brought me here.
I need to make up one of my own and hope it is enough to ease him to sleep.
“Once upon a time,” I start, then pause to think.
Fin doesn’t know who I am; I’ve kept it a secret, so to him, I’m just Lennox, the girl who came to Dawnlin right before him, and taught him to shoot a bow.
I know he would be my selection of who among us should be sent home when we get the dust, and I don’t want him to leave without knowing me, the true me, even if he doesn’t realize it.
Maybe someday he will piece it together.
“Once upon a time,” I say again, “there was a princess who lived in a big, stone castle.” Fin’s smile widens at the mention of a princess and castle, so I keep going.
“She never left the castle. She only knew everyone who worked there, so she didn’t have any friends to play with.”
“Poor princess,” Fin says, a frown forming on his lips.
Weston’s head sinks slightly, his chin dipping to his chest, and I wonder if he realizes I’m talking about myself.
“She may not have had any other children to play with, but she had lots of books to read. She would read about different worlds, with princes and dragons and giants. Every day, it was like she lived in another place, even though she never left the castle.
“Her favorite parts of the books were when the princess could go to a grand ball, with lots of food and music and pretty dresses, and dance with princes. She wished she could go to a ball of her own and waited a long time until one was planned to celebrate her birthday. She was so excited to meet new friends and dance and sing. She dressed up in a brand new big gown and got ready for the party, but when she opened the doors to the ballroom, no one had come.”
Weston lets out a breath through his nose and shakes his head slightly. The knuckles on his outstretched hands are white, and I pull my eyes away from them and look back at Fin.
He understands.
“Oh no,” Fin says, his eyebrows crunched together and forehead creased.
“She was very sad, and just wanted to leave and escape to one of the worlds she read about in her books, but—”
“But just when she was about to run away,” Weston cuts in, taking over the story.
I clamp my mouth shut, waiting to see where he is going with it.
“One of the castle guards saw how sad she was and asked her to dance. The music played and even though no one else was there, she still had a great time at the ball. After that night, the princess and the guard became friends, and went off on all kinds of adventures, just like in the books she had read.”
“Where did they go?” Fin asks. “Did they see a dragon?”
“That can be another story for another night,” Weston says, reaching out to ruffle Fin’s hair.
He rolls to his side and curls into a ball, his eyes softly falling closed. “I’m glad the princess made a friend,” he says with a wide yawn.
Tears fill my eyes and I turn away before anyone can see them threatening to fall.
“Goodnight, Lennox. Goodnight, mister Weston,” Fin murmurs.
Clearing my throat, I reach over and squeeze his leg before whispering back, “Goodnight, Fin.”
The room dims around us as I stand and walk toward the door, trying to swipe at my eyes discreetly. Weston follows wordlessly behind, his presence at my back just as close as it was before.
Once we are in the hallway, my head falls back with a sniffle, and I blink away the remaining tears, trying to compose myself. I don’t want him to see me cry, knowing that it was his fantastical story about showing me kindness that did it.
“You and I are on tonight,” Weston says behind me.
I clear my throat and turn around. “Doesn’t Jorn normally go with you?” My voice wavers despite trying to pull back all the emotion.
His eyes are softer than normal as they trail over my face, looking for any evidence of tears that had fallen. I don’t want to admit how much a simple story broke me, causing all the loneliness I felt that night to rush back, the stark contrast to how many people I have who care about me now.
“He asked to stay back with Taril. I can get someone else if you don’t want to.”
“Are you telling me I’m allowed to go back out?”
The night he kissed me, he forbade me from going out on my shift. Besides the permission he gave Sig that I could join the collection crew, he hadn’t revoked the order, and I need to hear him say it.
“Yes, you can go back out,” he says.
“Not just with you?” I quirk an eyebrow, challenging him to say no.
“Yes, princess.”
I nod. “Alright, then I’ll go.”
Sig and I agreed I needed to talk to Weston as soon as possible, and the perfect opportunity just fell into my lap. No matter what that story made me feel, and how much I want to go curl up in bed and cry myself to sleep, I am not going to pass it up.
“Meet me on deck in a few minutes.”
I step back against the wall, letting him pass me, feeling the heat coming off him as he gets close, before he disappears down the steps. The creak of hinges startles me, and I look across the hall to find Sig peeking through a crack in her doorway.
I point in the direction Weston just disappeared. “Were you behind this?”
“Maybe,” she whispers. “I figured it would be a good time. We need to act fast.”
“I agree,” I say, and sigh. “Wish me luck. I’ll find you in the morning.”
I grab my bow from the armory and my dagger from the bedside table before heading up to the deck.
Weston isn’t here yet, so I tilt my head back to stare up at the sky, at the same stars that amazed and excited me when I got here, but now I can’t help but want to go back home where I won’t see them again.
As long as I’m not alone.
So much has changed since I stepped foot onto this island and took in the sky for the first time.
I soak it up now, knowing that there is a possibility my time with it will end.
Closing my eyes, I listen to the waves roll into the cove, and the breeze ruffles the sails.
I breathe in the salt and water, and the fragrance of the beach, trying to commit every piece to memory for the day that comes when it is all gone.
I want to see more of our world; being on the island has taught me that. When the day comes, if it ever does, that I make the decisions, no one will be able to stop me.
“Ready?” Weston’s voice breaks my train of thought, and I open my eyes to find him watching me, his expression unreadable.
“Yes,” I say. “Let’s go.”