Embark | h.s

Seven

The boat's incessant tipping ceased to a gentle rock by early morning. Rain no longer pounded against the wood, and the boom of thunder was not to be heard again. A silence overcame the ship as men retreated to their quarters and rested their heavy eyes and aching bodies.

Nerissa continued her cries. The sweat had subsided for the most part after a cold compress was held to her, but her body still trembled and her skin was now a pasty white. Her bottom lip quivered as the tears flowed endlessly from her tiny green eyes. With every cry, Celia felt her heart crack. She felt absolutely helpless.

Daniel returned with Harry as the sun rose over the horizon, fragments of the beams breaking through the wooden panels above and casting light into the dark room they took shelter in. He rushed over to Celia's side and prepared his arms as she passed their daughter off to him.

The only sound to be heard in the small room was the crying of Nerissa until the hinges of the door squeaked and boots shuffled across the floor. Everyone looked up, their eyes harboring different emotions at the sight of Andrew. He stood nonchalantly in the threshold with a hand on his hip, a leather bag in tow.

"How long has she been like this?" he asked, walking further inside the already crowded room.

Celia stood to her feet. "Who brought you here?"

"I did," Harry said, his voice strained.

She whipped around with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. "I do not trust this man."

"My dear, he's our best bet." His voice was desolate as he looked down at the ill baby in his muscular arms.

He was not aware of Andrew's previous advances toward Celia, and she did not plan on informing him. Instead, she held her ground. "No. I want him gone." Celia turned her head and flared her eyes at Andrew.

"Just let me take a look. I promise I won't do anything, I won't even touch her if you wish," Andrew said. His voice was different than when he had spoken to Celia previously, almost a pleading tone underlying in the deep vibrations of his voice. Perhaps it was because his superior was present. His eyes cast a sorrowful gaze at the whining child.

What kind of game is he playing? Celia wondered.

She glanced back at Harry, who looked at Nerissa as if she were the only person in the room with him. She sighed out of defeat. "Alright," she mumbled, and stepped to the side to allow Andrew to continue in his path.

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Harry and looked down at Nerissa. "When did the sweat start?"

"Last night," Celia replied. She stood nervously with her arms folded over her chest, pacing back and forth in front of Andrew and Harry.

"Has she been pale the whole time?"

"No, she was rosy-cheeked when it began," Celia answered. She came to a halt. "Will she be okay?"

"All we can do is wait," he said, bringing his eyes up to Celia. "I'm sorry. If there were other symptoms, I could better diagnose her ailment, but it just seems to be a fever." Andrew pushed himself up and walked across the room.

Celia immediately took the spot next to Harry and grasped his forearm with her hand. They sat in silence together while Daniel and Ana sent sorrowful stares their way.

Andrew's gaze returned to being cool and emotionless. "Update me if her condition changes," he said as he turned on his heel and exited the room.

The heaviness his presence caused was lifted.

"Lady Styles, you must rest," Daniel said. He leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, his eyes gentle and caring as he looked at Celia. "You haven't slept all night."

"How can I sleep when my baby is sick?" Her voice wavered as she spoke, crackling as tears brimmed her eyes.

Daniel only nodded and kept his mouth shut, knowing that no matter how much convincing, Celia would not rest until Nerissa recovered.

"If she dies," Celia began, lifting her tear-ridden eyes to Harry's grim face, "I will never forgive you."

Her low voice sent chills throughout Harry's body. His heart sank as he processed what she said, realizing that he had practically forced his family to come on a journey that he knew was dangerous and life-threatening. "Get some sleep," he said softly. "I'll take care of her."

Celia, feeling a wave of fatigue drench her body, kissed Nerissa's forehead before standing to her feet. Harry watched as she walked out of the room, her movement slow and meticulous.

Daniel followed in her path, catching up to her and grabbing her by the arm. "Firecracker," he said, his voice lighter than usual.

"Not now, Daniel," she replied, yanking her arm away. She gripped the railing of the stairs and pulled herself up the steps that led to the weather deck. When she reached the top, she paused and allowed the sun to kiss her skin, warming her freezing body. She had not realized how cold she was.

Daniel reached the top of the stairs and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Let's get you to bed," he said.

Celia sighed and allowed Daniel to usher her across the boat. They reached the door to the captain's cabin and pushed it open, revealing the flooded room. An inch of rainwater sloshed around the floor, creating a small river within the room as it flowed out of the opened door. Celia raised her skirts to prevent them from getting soaked as she furthered into the room, and lifted her eyes to find a gaping hole in the ceiling.

Daniel ignored it and continued to guide her to the bedroom. Inside, it was dry for the most part. Some water had crept through the crack beneath the door, but the bed remained dry. Celia lowered herself onto the mattress and rested her head on the feathery pillow.

"Thank you, Daniel," she said, allowing her body and mind to rest.

He positioned a hand on the doorknob and glanced over his shoulder. "Of course. Now, sleep. I'll wake you if there's news." The door clicked shut behind him.

Celia closed her eyes and found herself able to finally fall asleep with the now gentle rocking of the boat.

✿

"My dear."

Celia hummed, tightly squeezing her eyes shut as the voice drew her out of her slumber. A warm hand slid across her arm, pulling her even further away from her dreams. She peeled her eyes open to find Harry kneeling on the ground beside the bed, his lips tugging upward to form a slight smile. She narrowed her eyes at him and sat up.

"How is she?" Celia demanded.

Harry pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand to her. She placed her small hand in his palm and allowed Harry to whisk her out of the cabin, into the dim light of the setting sun, down the stairs, below the weather deck, and into Daniel's quarters.

Ana stood with her back facing the entrance where Harry and Celia stood hand-in-hand. While attempting to slow her breathing, Celia shuffled across the room, dragging Harry behind her, and stopped behind Ana. The small coos of Nerissa lifted the weight on Celia's shoulders. Ana turned around, revealing the healthy baby in her arms.

"My God," Celia whispered in awe. She reached for Nerissa and held her close to her chest. "How? In just a few hours, she is perfect again."

"'Tis a miraculous recovery, ma'am," Ana said. "She slept for as long as you did and when she woke, she wasn't hot, nor crying."

"She's a fighter," Harry said, resting his hand on Celia's waist and pulling her into his side, "just like her mother."