Lions and Lambs

Chapter 14

Fine, she thought. It's not like she wanted to speak to him anyway.

The whispers were mercifully silent, peeled away like an orange until only her own voice remained, frail and hoarse like that of a frightened child. She distracted herself by focusing her attention on the voices and drab conversations around her. The mother and child behind them were speaking in a language that was familiar yet foreign to her ears. Ever since Solev had joined the Odaian Empire, more and more people began to learn the language of the desert, but her family had been too poor and too purist to bother with it.

Cassian's own voice had a strong Iokalian accent, though as far as she was concerned, he spoke Anathi perfectly. For a time she used to beg Step-mother to get her Iokalian lessens, for all of the successful and beautiful ladies knew how to speak it, but she had only scoffed and said that it would do her no use.

Now she was en route to the capital of their foreign empire, and she barely had a grasp on the sister language. The thought only made despair cloud her head as the grim uncertainty of her future made itself known. They were just weeks away from their destination, and she would be just as alone and ignorant as when they first began this trip. Instead of facing that terror, she sank deeper inside of herself as the hard bread turned to dust in her mouth.

Perhaps it would be better to just die on this ship. She could jump into the ocean, and if she were so lucky, Nala would welcome her into the afterlife with open arms, and perhaps she could meet her true mother, for she suspected that the story her father used to tell was a lie made to shame her.

The thought sent a strange spike of panic through her head so intense that it began to pound from a headache, and she gasped at the pain. Her hands clutched at her skull, indifferent towards the fishy oils coating her hair as she curled into herself.

"By the gods," she gasped, her eyes squished tight against the now subsiding pain.

Cassian froze across from her, his body coiling into a tense ball. Uncertainty boiled off of him in waves as he gingerly brushed a finger across her arm. The headache began to ebb away, and she slowly opened her damp eyes to catch his puzzled expression.

"What is it?" He murmured.

She shook her head slowly, afraid to reignite the fiery pain. With shaking hands, she took another bite of bread while she attempted to gather her thoughts.

"Just a headache," she answered, staring down at her plate to avoid looking into eyes that demanded honesty. She would think about jumping tomorrow; the ocean would still be waiting for her then.

With a newfound exhaustion in her bones, she stood from the table and muttered an excuse to Cassian, but he grabbed the edge of her dirty dress before she could walk away.

"Wait for me on deck," he murmured, his gray eyes hooking her like a floundering fish. She nodded her head more out of fear than obedience and pulled gently from his grip. When Sabine glanced back at him over her shoulder, his gaze was locked on the lump of fish on his plate.

No one followed as she hurried back up to the main deck and searched out a small corner where she could sit while waiting for him. Dusk had fallen during evening meal, and the sun was low enough in the sky that a chill was settling over the ship and worming its way beneath her rags. The deck was fairly empty as most of the crewmembers were eating or catching a bit of sleep before their night shifts, so Sabine was practically alone in the fading light. For a moment, she cherished the silence and smell of seawater. But peace did not last long as the faint tickle of whispers returned, and she crouched in on herself as unsettling murmurs echoed through her ears.