Marina

Part Six

The turning of the seasons had always been a part of Caspian's life. He liked it when the leaves changed color and the sun climbed the sky much later in the day. He enjoyed the crisper air that swept in from the sea and chased away the muggy heat.

The problem was that the cold waters didn't encourage many fish to swim near the shore in the mornings. It didn't help that pods or schools of bigger sea creatures would be passing by and taking their cut of the catch. Caspian didn't even want to think about the merfolk who had already trimmed those numbers down.

All this meant that Caspian would catch little to nothing if he went out early. He could always fish just before noon, but if he did, he would have to decrease the time he spent on actually selling the fish.

Marina could do that in his place, but Caspian tossed the idea out as soon as it entered his head. Considering how dainty her body was, she would have a hard time lugging a cart loaded with buckets of fish around town. Letting her head into the village alone might also expose her to whatever had brought her to Cerulean Cove in the first place.

Caspian sank into the lumpy couch and sighed. He'd been hoping to bring Verna home by next season, but it looked like his sister would have to wait again. He'd made progress saving up for her shop, but he hadn't done it fast enough.

His sigh must have drawn Marina out, because she peeked into the parlor.

"You look worried," she said. "Is something wrong?"

It seemed like that's all Marina asked him about lately. Not that he could blame her. He was the one who moped around the house as soon as he returned for lunch and dinner.

"I have to change things up." His gaze drifted to the locked cupboard in the corner where he kept their coins. "I won't save enough money for us from fishing alone."

Marina stepped fully into the room and sat beside him. Her presence helped settle his nerves a little. "What do you mean?"

"It's getting colder, and it's going to be a lot harder to catch fish out at sea," Caspian explained. Without conscious thought, he reached for his wife's hand and held it. "Fewer fish means fewer coins to take home. We're not going to starve or anything, but we might have to make do with what we have until next year."

Marina had actually come into his life at a good time. If she hadn't been around, he would still be scrambling to gather firewood, can fruits, preserve fish, repair the house, and do all sorts of chores to prepare for winter. But with her help, all those chores were done by noon, which left him plenty of time to worry about his plans before heading out to sea.

"I don't mind," Marina replied, leaning against his shoulder. He really did like the floral scent wafting from her hair. "I'm not really used to having a lot of things."

"Thank the fates for that. But it doesn't mean I won't try hard to get the best of those things for us," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Imagine, Marina, how much nicer it would be to live in a big house." Caspian laced their fingers together as he told her about what he envisioned for their little family. "Or not to have to mend clothes anymore. To have plates and cups made of glass instead of clay or wood. And furniture upholstered with the softest down feathers instead of lumpy bits of wool and cotton."

Marina hummed. "That does sound nice."

"And my sister," he continued. "She won't have to work as an apprentice anymore. She can open her own little tea house in town."

"Um, Caspian..."

Caspian paused. His wife had squeezed his fingers tight enough to pull him out of his imaginings. The gesture made him wonder if he'd said anything that might have made her uneasy.