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.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sig is absolutely no help as I look over, silently begging her to challenge Weston’s statement. She raises her hands, palms facing forward, and gives me a look.
“Sorry, Lennox. Cap’s orders.”
I roll my eyes and groan, then stomp toward him. Not being able to trust me around the crew yet is understandable, not to mention at night when everyone is asleep. I can’t trust them either after only a day of semi-freedom. At least this time, when I’m locked up, I’ll sleep on the cot. If this game is going to be long, I’m going to at least be comfortable.
Castaways come and go on the stairs and in the hallway around us, some shooting us funny looks as they watch Weston lead me away.
“Why can’t I sleep with the crew?” I finally ask as I struggle to keep up with his long steps.
“Bunks are full,” he says without so much as a glance back at me.
“That’s a lie,” I say. “And even if they were, the ship would just make me one, or give me a cot. I know how the magic works, Weston.”
“Captain,” he grumbles over his shoulder.
“Captain,” I say sarcastically.
I glare at the back of his head. The least he could do is give me the respect of looking me in the eye when he lies to me.
“Why did you let me out of the brig if you were just going to have me sleep there, anyway?” We reach the stairs, and I take the first two steps, ready to make another comment, when I realize he isn’t in front of me. I jerk to a halt and look back toward the hallway, where he continued walking.
