A Game Of Changing Tides

Chapter Thirty-Two

The Dawrey Ocean, 1868

Nikolai stood next to her on the main deck, wind pushing strands of his hair back and forth. Adelyn shrugged, for what felt like the hundredth time. She'd tried to explain what had happened over and over again, but it was hard to explain when she didn't really know herself.

"I just asked for the storm to stop, and it did."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Nik frowned, turning the stone in his fingers, the ruby colour glinting in the light. His fingers were calloused, cut and rough where hers were smooth. It felt like ages before he handed the rock back to her and she slipped it back into her bodice, where it'd been since the storm. Parting with it had felt like too much of a risk.

She'd have sewn it into her skin, if she could.

Nik clicked his tongue, laughing. With a grin on his lips, he turned towards Adelyn and looked all too proud. "Whoever said having a woman aboard a ship was unlucky doesn't know just how wrong they were."

Adelyn rolled her eyes. Around the two of them, the crew was still cleaning up from the storm. It'd been just over a day since it'd ceased, and still there was evidence of it everywhere aboard. Cracked boards, wet floors, and linens and people's clothes were hanging from every possible spot aboard ship, drying out in the sun while it shone.

Adelyn's own things-- her dress and her bodice were hanging off the dresser in her and Nina's room, the porthole open and offering what little air to dry them that it could.

"How far are we, do you think?" Adelyn asked, changing the subject. Nikolai turned his head back towards the water, looking out past the horizon, as if he could see so much further than the line where the water met the sky.

"Tomorrow night, I'd gather." He said, his head tilted to the side. "We've been making good speed."

"Tomorrow night," Adelyn repeated, almost in disbelief. Just over a day, and they'd be back home, back in familiar setting, if she could even call it that anymore.

When she closed her eyes, Adelyn could all too easily smell the salt-water and beer soaked streets of her hometown. She could picture the docks, the rotten boards beneath her feet, and the pubs riddled with rats and drunks. She was surprised to find that a small part of her was excited-- excited to walk past the old man's pawn shop and excited to eat the soup that the Brig pub cooked on weekend evenings.

"It's hard to believe it's over." Adelyn said softly, shaking her head. Wind whistled past her ear, taking someone's shirt that'd been hanging off the railing with it into the water below. "I don't know if I'll be able to convince myself this hasn't all been a dream-- once we get back, I mean."

"I'll convince you," Nikolai said, lightly hitting her shoulder with his own. "I'll remind you everyday."

Adelyn wet her bottom lip, smiling to herself, "You'll see me everyday, huh?"

"I'm thinking more like every hour," he said, looking down at her. There was only a foot of space between them, mostly made out of the height he held on her. Adelyn laughed, shaking her head to mask the redness of her face. She was sure he noticed, though, regardless.

Adelyn swallowed, "My schedule might be kind of full."

"I think you can rearrange it," he said. After a moment, he shrugged. "I could always make you rearrange it."

"That's almost scary," Adelyn said. "Except I'm not quite sure your threats hold that much meaning."

"What's that meant to mean?" Nik said, inching closer to her. Adelyn could feel his breath on her head, soft and warm, comforting.