Page 14 of Cursebreaker

I poke at a lump of mushy potato with my spoon, avoiding her knowing gaze as she peers at me from behind a curtain of dark hair. “So what?”

Her frown is sympathetic. “I saw you today. After you left the brig.”

I sigh, my chest tight. After I left Will and Titus in the brig, I hurried to lock myself in the captain’s quarters and remained there until Margaret nearly broke down the doors and dragged me onto the deck for a late supper with the crew. “I’m fine,” I say, smashing the potato with the back of the spoon. “Gabriel insisted I get some rest.”

Eliza nods slowly. “Ah, I see,” she says, and for a moment, I think she’s content to believe me, but—“It’s just that I was there, you know,” she adds, turning toward me. “I heard what Titus said in the dungeons.”

My stomach twists. “And?”

Eliza lifts her brows in a meddling expression that reminds me of her brothers. “And,” she continues, “I know he gave you that coat.”

“That’s hardly a secret,” I say. “And it’s just a coat.”

“Just a coat,” she echoes, still nodding.

“He proposed to me.” I don’t know if I say it to convince her, but after the admission passes my lips, a weight lifts from my shoulders.

Eliza tries—and fails—to hide the surprise that sparks in her hazel eyes. “Titus?”

My heart skips a beat. “No,” I say, and it’s my turn to blush. “Will.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh?”

I wince. “I didn’t say no, either.”

“Oh!” Eliza covers her mouth with both hands. “Well, that’s certainly…”

“Selfish?”

She shakes her head vigorously, her voice gentle yet firm. “I was going to say difficult.”

Tears prick my eyes, and I blink furiously, desperate to dispel them before anyone takes notice of our hushed conversation. “He told me he loved me,” I whisper.

Eliza’s brow creases, her mouth pressed tight. “And you didn’t say it back,” she murmurs. “So you don’t, then?”

“Don’t what?”

“Love him.”

I hesitate, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “I don’t know. I never thought I’d fall in love.”

“Me either,” she says, cutting a glance at Lewis across the way, caught up in a lively debate with Jack and Henry. There’s a long stretch of silence, and then—“Aster, if he’s telling the truth…”

I know she means Titus—know she’s talking about what he said in the dungeons, about Will romancing me even though he knew how Titus felt. “He’s not,” I say. “He was just trying to drive Will and me apart—because of the compulsion.”

She smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness. “You shouldn’t feel guilty,” she whispers. “I saw the two of you together, at Castle Grim. Even if Titus was compelled, the way he looked at you… I wouldn’t blame you if you felt something for him.”

“I don’t.” I drop the spoon, and it clatters against the bowl. A cool breeze ripples the sails of the Starchaser, but a bead of sweat forms at the nape of my neck. “Feel guilty, I mean. Nothing happened between us.”

Eliza nods again. “Of course,” she says, placing her hand over mine, prompting me to meet her gaze. “I’ve known Billie a long time, and I know he means what he says.… But you deserve to be loved with actions, not just words.”

I open my mouth, unsure of what I’m supposed to say, when the low, sweet timbre of music sweeps across the deck. At once, all conversation halts, and we look toward the helm, where Rook drapes himself over the railing, cradling a fiddle.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you!” Rook sighs, blowing a kiss at the old, scuffed instrument.