Winds of Fate [Books IV-VI]

Chapter 148: Dream

"Maddy?" Vic strides the lower gun deck, poking his head in the galley and narrowing his eyes at the guns, where gunners rest. "Oh, Maddy!"

Below the counter, Eugenie looks up from the drawers. They had begun to sail, under James' command. To where, they don't really know yet, but she heard him and Ben talking of Salt Key Island, where the tiny town is friendly to pirates. The young woman wrenches a towel in her hands. The last she has seen of Miss Maddy is in their room. "Vic!"

"Yeah?" Victor turns around, box of powders in his hand. Eugenie blinks. His face is freshly scrubbed clean that his naturally pale cheeks and yellow brows stand out.

"Did you try knocking?"

"I... I... wouldn't want to..." He rubs the back of his head. "She might be taking a nap, or dressing..."

"Oh." Eugenie smiles and shrugs. "I can give it to her if you want?"

Before Victor can walk over, Thibaud hurriedly races down the staircase, all gleaming with sweat and reeking of that dried sand smell she abhors. He greets Victor, who rolls his eyes in turn, and hastily wipes his golden curls. The young girl winces; it does not feel right to be thinking of him when the ship is currently drifting, missing their captain.

Captain. Eugenie sighs, hesitantly peeking at the mark on her arm. She could ask her gods for help... but after what happened last night, with Maman hurt and the Baron angry... A part of her recoils.

The Lwa are not to be ordered around.

She proceeds with counting jars for the inventory then. Perhaps this is what they meant by serving, as a priestess; there are times when you are helpless... what matters is one's heart during such times of stillness.

Or, perhaps, one should accept that they are not meant for a particular mission.

"Eugenie!"

She jolts and nearly knocks a glass jar full of pickled cucumbers. When she looks up, it was Vic who called—

But Thibaud waves and smiles.

"I'll leave you to it then," Victor jokingly bows to Thibaud, who frowns at him. Vic doesn't mind; he leaves with an evil cackle, powder box still in hid hand.

She sighs and stands up. "What is it?" Her brows meet... that sounded colder than she intended.

However, Thibaud just shrugs. "It's too hot out." He winces, unaware of how butterflies are unwillingly swarming in her chest. "The boys could use a jug."

She balks. "I..." Eugenie closes her eyes. I'd just tell James then. "Alright. Come here."

It is improper and all to even dare do so, but she'll be damned to carry heavy things around herself. However, with it comes the pain of enduring this walk with his familiar heat and warmth stalking behind her. So very close... Eugenie twists the towel again and looks away, mumbling that they'll have to go down the hold. He nods and falls a step beside her as they navigate the other set of stairs leading directly below.

An uncomfortable silence stretches... she swallows, hoping he will not notice, nor ask. She herself doesn't know what this is about—nothing has changed for them, has it? To think he nearly died last night.

And she could remember how her heart broke still.

Oh, non.

Eugenie shakes her head. She has far direr things to think of. A duty to see, both in the ship and to her goddess.

"Hey."

She gasps. "Quoi?!"

His bright blue eyes blink back at her. Thibaud, always never the wiser, raises both brows. "Ça va?"