Slave To The Seven Seas

Chapter 6

    That night, back aboard the ship, as we dined in the private galley, Cyrus was warring with himself. He remained silent as I prattled on about the trip, obviously having enjoyed myself in the city.

    I noticed, of course, my companion's sour demeanor; his fingertips incessantly drumming on the table top, his knee bouncing anxiously, his eyes void of any humor. I tried to dispel the dark cloud that had suddenly overcome him. He had seemed so cheerful on our walk back to the docks, but since we'd reconvened for dinner he's been in foul spirits. I was at a loss as to why. Our visit in Linia had been pleasant, he had appeared satisfied with whatever business he had been conducting, and I had done all I could think of to liven his disposition.

    Regardless, he sat in this funk, not touching any of the food before them. It struck me that he looked more impatient than truly vexed, though I could not say for sure when he refused to speak more than a word or two at a time. I tried, in vein,  to cajole him into revealing the nature of his abrupt change of mood. He would only change the subject in an attempt to get me to speak instead.

    By the time I had finished eating I had had enough. I rose from my chair and cast him a very annoyed look.

    "If you aren't going to speak to me and tell me what's bothering you, then I'm going to bed. A lame donkey would make a better dining companion than you tonight."

    Cyrus jumped to his feet, his mouth open as if he were about to let me have it. As quick as it came, he composed himself, stating simply that he would walk me to my chambers.

    We walked in heavy silence, my cheeks puffed up in annoyance. I would much rather have had him yell than this uncomfortable silence. It was completely at odds with our quiet yet peaceful walk earlier that day. I guessed at the cause of his sulking: had I done something to upset him? Had he been delivered bad news of sorts?

    I was no closer to figuring it out when we finally reached my room. My hand hesitated on the knob as I debated leaving him to pout for the rest of the night.

    Suddenly, an idea popped into my little head, and the grin that spread across my face was all but devilish. I spun on my heels to face him, trying to look as sweetly as I could. Slowly, I rose onto my tiptoes, leaning my face close to his. My lips placed a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, lingering but for a second before I settled back onto flat feet. It seemed to do the trick, snapping him out of whatever dark thoughts had been floating in his mind. Now he held a look of utter surprise, his eyes wide as they gazed down at her.

    Before he could react in any way, she quickly said goodnight and slipped into her room, shutting the door on his shocked face.

    Unbeknownst to her, Cyrus would stand in that shell-shocked position outside her door for half an hour, wondering if that had truly just taken place or if he had imagined it.

******

    The next morning, Alice did not show up for breakfast. The captain paced his study, anxiously pondering if she regretted that little kiss she had bestowed upon him last night. It may appear like such an insignificant act, but Cyrus knew it must've taken a great deal of courage and....trust. For that tiny little bird, with her broken wings, to grace him with a peck from her angelic lips.

    He had sworn to himself that he would not be her undoing; that he would not be the cause of any strife due to his unwanted advances. But she had initiated that slight moment of intimacy. She had shown him vulnerability. She had. Not him.

    He had stood there outside her door, bridling his wanton desires. If he had had his way, he would have taken her face in his hands and kissed her before she had gotten the chance to pull away. He would have backed them into her room and onto her bed and....

   And these thoughts were the reason he had stayed away. He did not want to force her into bed. He did not want to hurt her.

    He slammed his fist down on his desk, sending papers scattering to the floor. Never in his life had felt so conflicted, especially about a woman. He had always been so confident- so take charge and charming. He could not understand why she was so different. She was a woman, like any other, not exceptionally beautiful or wily. She was traditionally attractive, sure, but he had bedded females that would send artists flocking to make them their muse.

    He stewed in this state of confusion for most of the morning, until the focus of his thoughts burst through his study doors.

   "I've done it!" Alice exclaimed, waving a handful of documents in the air. She was beaming from ear to ear, erasing any concerns of his about the previous night's occurrence.

    She raced over to him, laying the papers out on his now disheveled desk. "It took me longer than anticipated, I apologize, but I've finally finished."

    Quizzically, Cyrus glanced down at what she had set before him. Her fine, feminine handwriting scrawled across the pages. It takes him a moment to process what he's reading, but once it dawns on him, he is overcome with pride and excitement.

    "You've translated the merchant's journal!" He rejoices. He is so moved by her efforts that he envelopes her in his arms, squeezing perhaps a bit too tightly. Alice is stunned for a second by his overt show of emotion, but shortly relaxes, and returns his embrace.

    Cyrus was so pleased with her work that he'd completely forgotten his manners. Had he not just been agonizing about keeping his distance from her? And yet here he was, holding her to him as if she were the only thing keeping him afloat amidst raging waters. For that brief moment that they held each other, he didn't care. As long as he was able to be close to her like this, those debilitating thoughts eddied from his mind.

    Alice experienced a similar feeling, a weight she hadn't realized was there lifting from her shoulders as she pressed her cheek against his chest. It had taken her almost a week to fully translate the entry, and she had occupied herself all morning, transcribing it for him. She basked in the pride he felt for her. No one had expressed such gratitude towards her in a long time.

   The two separated a bit awkwardly, both a bit embarrassed. Cyrus turned his attention back to the papers, reading through them carefully.

    "Love unanswered, heart askew,
      A tear falls into waters blue.
     Hard as stone and clear as glass
     Lost among the tall sea-grass.
     Where once the veins of earth ran deep,
     Find the place where sirens sleep.
     Higher than the full moon's glow,
     Lower than you dare to go.
     For if you seek the siren's tear,
     You'll find yourself all full of fear."

     Cyrus read the poem aloud, his eyes alight with joy. "This is precisely what I was hoping to find. Thank you pet." He ruffles her hair playfully, finally seeming more like himself than he had the day before.