Chapter 10 - "What are you hiding from?"

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Zavier

High up in the crow's nest, the chill night wind swam around Zavier, but he didn't notice it. He stared out at the endless sea. Splinters of moonlight pierced the cloud bank now and then, dropping reflections on the smooth glass surface of the ocean.

Below faint glows from lanterns along the deck acted as reminders that he wasn't alone in the world. He glanced down, catching a flash of golden hair as a lantern swayed.

The smell of the port hit Zavier as the carriage bumped along the cobblestones: salt and fish. The music of rough men's voices filled his ears. As the carriage slowed, due to the dense throng, Zavier let go and dropped to the hard street and the carriage continued, never knowing it had carried a stowaway.

He scrambled to his feet to avoid being trampled. Shoulders knocked into him as the cologne of ale invaded his nose. Dressed as he was in a borrowed servant's attire, no one looked twice at him. Why would they, whoever expected to see a Prince at the port, unguarded?

Fighting the tide of sailors, Zavier made his way along the docks, searching the line of ships. He dodged and ducked around packs of men hauling in their cargo. If he got bumped and shouted at, he returned the kindness, furthering the illusion that he was no one of importance.

When he spotted the Sea Siren, he let out a breath of relief, it hadn't departed yet. Near the gangplank stood a tower of crates. One by one he watched as sailors grabbed hold of one and heaved them up to the ship.

Acting confident, Zavier stole forward and seized one of the crates. He nearly fell over under the weight but managed to keep his ground. Ducking his head, he climbed the gangplank. All the sailors on deck were too busy to notice a boy who wasn't supposed to be there.

By the wheel, Zavier spotted Captain Isla talking with her husband. Zavier paused, he'd heard that Raif was a nobleman, but looking at him, Zavier didn't understand how that could be true. Raif's face was unshaven, his shirt hung open at the top, his sleeves were rolled up showing tanned forearms and his boots were scuffed. He didn't look like a duke, he looked free.

Peeling his eyes away, Zavier hurried on, ducking into the stairwell to the lower decks. He'd been on enough ships that he knew how to find the cargo hold. He slowed his steps as he let his eyes adjust to the dimness. The hold smelled inviting with a million hints of spices all stored away. After placing his crate amongst others, he climbed over piles to tuck himself into a corner to wait.

Men came and went, but none of them were any the wiser to the hidden boy. Zavier wriggled, getting more comfortable, he would have to stay here until they were far enough at sea it wouldn't make sense to turn around. He closed his eyes, imagining one of the servants eventually finding his letter to his parents. He didn't want them to worry after all.

He'd kept it simple, "I have gone to be a pirate. Do not worry about me. Zavier." He doubted they would listen to his request.

At last, the sailors stopped loading the cargo hold and Zavier felt as the ship left the docks, letting the tide carry it away. The gentle rocking put him to sleep. He didn't know how long it had been when the approaching of boots and a muttered oath woke him.

"Could have done it himself, but no, he had to make me. That's that last time I play for favors at dice."

The voice surprised Zavier because it wasn't a male's, it wasn't even a woman's, it sounded like a girl's. A young girl's. Unable to help himself, Zavier raised his head, trying to get a look at the girl. As he shifted, the girl swung around, her lantern blinding him. He squinted and she gasped. Zavier dropped down again, even though he knew it was pointless, he'd been seen.

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