The Pirate Queen

Chapter 12

They docked at Schilbad Island one week after sailing out of the storm, right on schedule. A good thing too because the night before they docked,  Jora had followed Eric into Ariel's cabin with her dinner and the news that they were, in fact, out of food. The Dauntless had stocked just enough to get them to this island and no further. 

Eric had tried pushing for a reason why but Seb had gotten snappy with him about learning his place so Eric had shut up about it. 

He and Ariel had yet to speak much in the week since the storm. He shared his navigations, she acknowledged him with a dip of her chin. He brought her dinner every night, and she'd look up from a red leather journal to stare at him until he left.

Jora had seen the whole thing with the mizzenmast from the staircase leading below deck on a mission to find out why Eric hadn't joined him when he'd given the order to rest. He'd seen the two of them fighting, seen the lightning strike. He saw Eric dive for Ariel with no regard for his own well being, just the instinct to keep her safe. Jora saw how Ariel had buried her face in Eric's chest for the entire minute after the collision with the railing spindles, something Eric didn't remember feeling when the prince pestered him for details afterward. 

"Does she hate me or something?" Eric asked after the meeting, flopping dramatically into his hammock. The entire time they'd been discussing she still hadn't looked at him. It was driving him nuts, this ignoring. It was below him to be bothered by wanting someone's attention so badly but he'd just saved her life. The least she could do was thank him for hand delivering her dinner every night. 

Jora snorted and pulled out a whetstone to sharpen some of his cooking knives. "I think we've been over this Eric. She doesn't hate you." 

"Feels like she does," he grumbled. 

"Again. You'd be dead." 

"Jora? Eric?" Both men looked up to see Seb standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Eric wondered, not for the first time, how such a scholarly man ended up employed on a pirate ship. And as the Quartermaster of all positions. 

Jora paused his sharpening and set the knife down. "She has words so soon?" Eric looked between them, wondering what they had seen in her face and posture that he hadn't. How did Jora know Ariel wasn't done giving out orders?

Seb pursed his lips and his muddy brown eyes shifted over to Eric who was pouting in the general direction of the ceiling. "After some discussion, Eric will be required to stay on the ship when we dock. He's not to set foot on the island." 

"What?" He wheeled up and almost went sprawling on the floor. "On what grounds?" 

"Her title as Captain, for one," Seb said curtly. His eyes had narrowed and while most of the crew members shrunk under that gaze, Eric only glared back. His father had given him much more harsh, withering looks. This tiny man with bright red hair couldn't scare him that easily. 

"Secondly, you're too recognizable. You don't blend in with us, or any other pirate for that matter. It's safer for everyone if you stay here." 

From a logical standpoint, it made sense. Eric had an air of regalness about him that was bled into him from birth. He was spotted at the Hurricane in Romee, and that was just a bar. Walking onto a island full of pirates would be disastrous, but he craved land more than he thought he would. Three weeks at sea were fun and freeing and hard work, but he wanted solid dirt beneath his boots. He wanted to see a palm tree sway and smell something other than unwashed men and sea salt.

"I need supplies," he blurted. 

Seb arched a disbelieving brow. "What could you possibly need, Prince? We gave you back your things." It was true, Ariel had given him everything back that he and Jora had shoved in their trunks before leaving. Maps, the sextant, astrolabe, all of it. Eric didn't really need anything other than to be off this ship.