The Sea Siren

Chapter Nine

Vivian

The Orion has seen it's fair share of damage over the course of my ownership, though it's still far less than it saw when Eldar was captain but our first encounter of the day with one of Soilles fleet ships has produced more than I'd like to see.

The ash and blood we have to scrape off the deck doesn't help appearances much either.

"I need another cloth," I grumble, ignoring Bastian's amused chuckle as he digs into the bucket for clean rags, also on his hands and knees like I am. Aggie has been preparing the bodies for burial below for over an hour. While normally the crew would be celebrating a day of conquering two ships before sundown, drowning in drink and music, tonight no one can rally themselves to rejoice.

Not when two of our own are dead.

There's only open water, to all sides of us.

It dawned on me as we burnt the Zephr to pieces, sailing away from Soilles before even setting foot on it, that in this victory, I lost my opportunity to locate Michel.

I still have yet to decide if capturing the Prince of Vale is a better prize.

"We'll have to feed him soon," I gasp, scrubbing back and forth, exerting all my force.

Damn this blood.

Bastian nods, rubbing his head with the back of his forearm. His thick braids are escaping the ribbon keeping them in place. "Aya is fixing something up now. You need to eat too, you know."

"I'll eat with him. I want to see what I can get out of him."

"Is that why he's here?" He throws the red-stained rag next to the bucket. It lands with a loud squelching sound. "To interrogate him? Because it sounded like you knew each other to me."

"Under false pretenses, Bas. The man tricked me into thinking he was actually decent."

I refuse to acknowledge how valiantly he tried to free his own on the ship before himself. I won't think of his impressive combat skills or how upon seeing him again, it felt as though I knew him.

What a foolish thought.

Handsome men are usually not to be trusted.

"Tell me what happened, Viv."

I climb onto my feet, shaking my head. "I had a nightmare."

His eyes shrink with regret. "You're having them again?"

"More so now that Michel seems so close... I went into Belmur on my own and—"

He chuckles, loudly, extracting his knife to dig into the crevasses of the wood. "You were asking for trouble, then."

Rolling my eyes, I toss the soaked rags into the full bucket. "I was pissed out of my mind, minding my own business when they challenged me. The prince here must have been watching, followed me into the tavern."

"If he had you alone, why not capture you while he could? While it was easy."

I grin. "Whoa there, easy is an insult. I would have given him hell." I cross my ankles, realizing my boots are still filthy. In fact, all of me would benefit from a dip into the bath. "I don't understand it either. I was wounded. He helped, sent me on my way."

Remembering the strange, exciting encounter, I scoff, recalling his posh wardrobe, the extravagant cloak that hung from his shoulders—a rich blue velvet.

The color of the royals.

I should have known.

"You went against reputation today. I wonder if it'll get out you spared a man, even if he is a prince."