Chapter 6
Chapter Six
They spent five blissful days on the beach.
And, according to the captain, they were supposed to rendezvous with another ship before the week’s end.
Cariad was flooded with relief immediately upon touching land.
No more nausea, no more swaying on the open seas.
She decided she would ingratiate herself with the sailors while they were here in case she was indisposed back on the ship.
The last thing she wanted was to offend the very people who were responsible for getting her to destination.
They all seemed genuinely kind and helpful, once they realized she was willing to pull her own weight.
Except the captain.
His demeanor baffled her. When she struggled with the tasks she was given, she would catch the captain glaring at her.
She had volunteered to help with meals and cleaning up afterwards - which meant filling up large pots of water from the fresh stream a few hundred yards away. Several times over the pots would catch on the sand, tip over, and she would have to start all over with filling up the buckets.
The first day, it took her so long to fetch water that by the time she had finished hauling water after breakfast, it was time for lunch, and then afterward, it took her so long again that it was dinner.
She stayed up well past lights out cleaning, promptly fell into her tiny tent exhausted, only to have to wake up at the crack of dawn and start all over.
It wasn’t until midday on the third day that she fashioned a system out of a long stick and some rope to hang the pots of water across her shoulders that she was finally able to stay on top of her duties.
Meals went smoother, clean up was quicker, and she felt herself getting stronger by the fifth day.
Still, though she was proud of her ingenuity and received quite a few nods of approval from the other sailors. But the captain frowned every time she caught him looking at her. No matter what she did.
Often while she was scrubbing the pots and pans, she would find herself watching him—the way he crossed his arms over his chest when he was thinking.
Or when he would throw his head back and laugh when told a joke.
Or how he would roll his sleeves up when challenged to a skirmish.
She would absently dry the same pot over and over until he’d find her gaze over the sea of heads.
His brow would crease into a frown above his stormy grey eyes that seared into her.
Her cheeks would flame as she looked away, fumbling the pot she was holding.
She couldn’t help but wonder if her presence was bothersome to him.
On the fifth day she admitted to herself that she found him insanely attractive, magnetic even, and it was atrocious.
The most annoying part was that she didn’t even know his name.
In her head, he was still Captain Smartass.
No one addressed him by name. Even when they all shared stories around the fire, or drunkenly brawled, or even pranked each other.
As friendly as they were with the captain who bossed them around, they all still addressed him as captain.
It was admirable, the amount of respect they had for him.
It was on their sixth day that Birdy noticed a ship in the distance.
Their bird call shifted from the usual trill of the morning to something much harsher and higher pitched—as if sounding an alarm.
She looked up briefly and watched Birdy circle once, twice over the encampment on the beach and land, shifting quickly into their fae form and disappeared among the tents.
Out of the corner of her eye, between the tendrils of her sweat-damp hair, she watched the captain walk over.
No one joked, no one pulled him into a quick skirmish. The mood was dour.
Odd, she thought. Even odder still was when he stood next to her, close enough she could feel how tense he was when his arm brushed against hers.
He grabbed a dirty pot, dunked it in the water she was using, and started scrubbing furiously.
He had cleaned two pots by the time it took her to clean one and he was onto his third when she finally had it.
Sure he was very nice to look at but his attitude could use some adjusting.
“If the way I clean isn’t to your liking, then just say so. There is no need for you to do my work for me,” Cariad snapped. “I’m working as fast I can, because I like eating out of clean vessels.”
He shrugged, unbothered by her remarks, and scrubbed the next pot.
Well, if he was going to be snotty about it, then she’d just have to do a better job.
She scrubbed harder. He was so stoic, focusing intently on the pot he was scrubbing that it was enough to drive someone mad.
An awkward silence had passed between them and she almost threw her towel down and walked away when he leaned in to whisper, “I need you to go fetch some water. Right now.”
She had carried four bucketloads over early in the morning, there was plenty left for the rest of the dishes until dinner. Cariad frowned and opened her mouth to object.
The captain cut her off. “And I will need you to stay there until the ship leaves.”
“Pardon?” What if the ship didn’t leave until the next day? What was she supposed to do? Hide out at the stream until tomorrow?
“You need to go now, before their rowboat arrives. I will not have a magic-less, unarmed fae harmed.”
Ah. “Birdy’s call was an alarm.”
The captain tilted his head and nodded once. The incoming ship must not be friendly. It would explain why the entire group had grown somber. A knot formed in her stomach. The captain took the towel from her and she turned to face him.
“And what if I’m—,” she started but he cut her off, stepping so close their chests almost touched.
He looked around at his crew, noticed a few of them lingering too close and frowned.
She suppressed a shiver when he bent toward her.
One of his free hands slid against her waist and pulled her to him.
Her heart fluttered at the contact, the way his large hand splayed against her, his fingertips curling into her shirt. If only…
His lips brushed against her kerchief as he whispered, “Listen, Ceecee, that ship is from the Black King, also known as the Fire Fae King. The day we left, a search party was looking for his new bride’s sister, the Earth Fae heir.
A Cariad Deoir. The king now has henchmen scouring the land, the air, and the sea, to find her, bring her back to Fae, so she can give him what he thinks is his due. ”
“His due?” She croaked out, tilting her head back to stare into his eyes. Storm clouds of intensity stared back down at her, a strange emotion flashing across his face as realization dawned on Cariad. The words slipped out before she could stop them. “My kingdom.”
The captain straightened, nodding his head. “So you’ll see why it’s imperative for you to be out of sight. And if you do have any of that earth magic that I think you’ve been hiding, it might be of use to you to use it to cover your tracks.”
All at once, she understood. She took a moment to look around at the sailors.
Hardly any of the fae or halflings met her gaze.
Not only did the captain know who she had been this entire time, but the sailors, too.
This whole time she had been so careful about keeping to herself, keeping a low profile, only to have everyone know who she was.
“I can’t have your presence harming my crew, Your Highness.
I already took a chance letting you stay,” the captain said, his voice brisk.
She flinched at the formal address. “You’ll understand if I ask you to step away and conceal yourself.
Your tent has already been decommissioned and stored in mine. ”
She took one look around the encampment and her heart lurched. She sighed. The captain’s ship was a humanitarian vessel and she would not do anything to put anyone at risk. “Understood.”
“Excellent.”
Cariad grabbed a bucket and walked briskly to shelter at the stream, unraveling a tiny thread of her magic to cover her tracks in the sand.