The WindFlyer

Chapter 25

Captain Astoria's PoV

As the sun begins to set I hand the wheel over to Andreas, my first mate, so that he can keep us on corse while I sleep. Normally, I would tie the wheel for the night but we are still too close to Oneiro for my comfort. Better safe than sorry, in my opinion. Draen never left the railing as we sailed. I watch as he picks up the bag he had dropped at his feet, I had a crew member bring mine to my cabin earlier. We walk down the stairs together, I turn to the door of my cabin and see the prince turn to the trap door that leads to the crews quarters.

"Where do you plan to sleep?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. Draen looks, dare I say, sheepish when I implore.

"The brig," he says, the end of his sentence turning upward like a question. I chuckle at it slightly, thinking it is a joke.

"Really?"

"I guess you could say that old habits die hard," he says with a half shrug. He continues toward the ladder, actually serious about staying in the brig. I sigh and walk over to him, grabbing his bag from him and then back to my door. He cocks his head at me.

"You're not staying in the brig," I say with a frown. "And there is no room below deck with the crew."

"Oh? And where do you propose I sleep?" Draen asks in a somewhat suggestive tone, almost playfully. I smirk at the prince.

"You can sleep in my cabin or you can sleep out here," I say with a shrug before spinning on my heel and walking into my private rooms. Draen laughs darkly as he follows me, the door swinging shut behind us. I navigate my way through the dining room, tossing Draen an apple from a bowl on the table as I go by. I grab one for myself and begin munching on it. The apples are fresh from our time at port, the juice runs down my chin and swarms my tongue.

I enter the bedroom portion which doubles as my office space and I cringe slightly at the papers strewn about. I refuse to apologize, though. This is my space after all and Draen is only here on my good graces.

"We can share the bed, I don't necessarily care," I say flippantly. If I know one thing, it's that I am not sleeping on the floor on my own ship. I unlace my boots quickly and place them by the door. Rubbing my neck, I sit myself at the desk. I sift through papers and pick up a pen. Squinting at the setting sun, I pull a small oil lamp out to provide some light. I hear the groan of the bed where I assume Draen is sitting. My pen scratches along the papers as I add sums together. The majority of my work is math. I rarely correspond with anyone aside from my own people and sometimes hidden holdings within the archipelago. I make a point to use the places to smuggle people out, so long as they know where to look. I do what I can.

"You just got on board. What could you possibly be doing?" The prince asks with a small laugh.

"Work," I mutter in response. I can practically feel him rolling his eyes at me behind my back. The question causing me to lose my place in the math sequence and forcing my to go back to the beginning.

"Yes, I assumed as much. I meant what kind of work?" He groans.

I am half way down the page now, or was it a quarter? No. It was half. I think. The last number was 54, yes that seems right or was it 45? I sigh through my nose sharply and glare up from my work. I tap my foot on the floor impatiently. "Finances, sums, correspondences, the usual captain work."

The prince gets up from the bed, I hear his feet pad over to me. His breath tickles my ear as he leans over my shoulder and scans the number sheet I'm working with. "Do you mind?" Draen asks, gesturing to the page. I raise an eyebrow, a quizzical expression playing over my face.