Blood ⤘ In The Heart Of The Sea [Thomas Nickerson]

Chapter IV

Verona stood on the deck, her blue orbs mixing with the waves that ran freely under the ship, the silent sound of the night wind lightly stroking her hair and neck as she breathed in the salty air, wondering how she had ever been able to live without it permanently around her.

"Verona," a voice called, and the girl turned her head lightly, watching as her father walked up from the lower deck, stopping at the entrance.

"Supper's ready."

He disappeared back down the stair, and Verona let out a sigh before following him, making her way towards the torch light.

The raven had stayed in her cabin all day, sometimes straining to hear what the men were saying as they shifted above her. She'd only chosen to come out after the sun had set, staying on the deck for about thirty minutes before her father had interrupted her peace.

"Good evening," Owen said once Verona walked through the door, taking a seat besides her father.

She offered him a small smile, making sure her father wasn't watching, before digging into the chicken that lay in front of her.

And then, her father spoke.

"If we make Cape Verdes within the next two weeks," he said, "we'll have a decent chance of reaching the Pacific on schedule."

Everyone nodded, but Verona and Owen did nothing, both of them eating their food in silence.

George noticed the man's behaviour, and spoke once more.

"Corn, Mr. Chase?"

Owen looked up, mildly surprised.

"Oh, no thank you sir. Never had much of a taste for it," he replied, and Verona placed a piece of chicken in her mouth to keep from laughing, remembering the time she had stayed for dinner with Owen and Peggy, having 'accidentally' placed a piece of corn in Owen's plate. She nearly snorted as she remembered how the man had almost felt sick after one bite, her and Peggy laughing hysterically.

"That's odd. Told your father grew corn on Cape Cod."

Verona froze, a piece of meat still in her mouth as she slowly looked towards her father. She knew that tone. And it was never a good sign.

"That's right, he did. As you can imagine, I certainly grew tired of eating it everyday," Owen replied calmly, as if he, too, knew that the captain simply wanted to test him.

"Corn. Okra. Beans, I believe," George said, not noticing the look his daughter was giving him as he listen the different crops Owen's father had grown.

Owen nodded, not speaking as he stuffed his face with chicken, trying to not snap as the captain wished.

"Before he went to jail."

Verona slammed her knife on the table, the blade facing upwards as she finally gulped down her food.

"Father–"

"Are you familiar with this story, Mr. Joy?" George continued, completely ignoring his daughter's tone and continuing his so called conversation.

"Sir?" Mr. Joy questioned, unsure of what to say, not really paying attention to what the men were saying.

"Were you aware that Mr. Chase was effectively orphaned due to his father's incarceration?" George said, and Verona's grip tightened on the knife as she glared holes into her father's head.

"Well, we all have our own paths to sea," Mr. Joy said, noticing the girl's stare.

"As a rule, we tend to not ask too many questions."