The Captain looked at herself in the mirror and tugged at the flimsy nightgown she had found in the dresser drawer. She looked completely ridiculous. She knew a few of her sisters liked to wear delicate ensembles to bed, but she had always worn a cotton nightshirt. She never understood why anyone felt the need to dress up while sleeping -- it just wasn't practical. She scratched at the lace collar and weighed the risks of sleeping naked.
By the time they had finished dinner and negotiating, night had slipped over the sky, revealing smatterings of stars. Princess Lorelai insisted that they stay the night as their guests, claiming the waters could be treacherous at night. They were each led to their own bedroom in the sprawling castle. The room she had been given was beautifully decorated, with old, carved furniture and a delicate, white canopy over the four-poster bed. When she entered, escorted by guards, a servant was waiting with a hot bath. Though the girl's pale hair and pointed ears unnerved her, she seemed demure and kind, so the Captain let the servant girl bathe her.
It had been a long time since someone else had bathed her. It had been a long time since she had worn pretty clothes, or had a large, down-stuffed bed to sleep on, or a spacious room all to herself. She ran her fingers through her hair, relishing the clean strands. She tried to enjoy the luxuries, but she found herself aching for the rocking of her ship, for the wind in her hair. The girl who had once lived as a royal had grown into a woman with very different tastes.
A knock sounded from the door, jolting her from her thoughts. She tied a silk robe over the absurd nightgown and walked to the door, opening it slowly. She peered out into the dark hall to see King Sidka. His hair was pulled back, revealing his strong jaw and pointed ears.
"King Sidka," the Captain said, bowing her head. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I -- well, I wanted to see if you were settled, and comfortable," he said, clearing his throat.
"I am," she said.
"Good, good," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. She stared at him expectantly. "May I come in?"
She imagined it would be unwise to refuse a king. She nodded and stepped aside, pulling the door open and shutting it behind him once he had entered. They sat down on opposite ends of the velvet settee that faced the window, overlooking the ocean and the blanket of stars hanging above it.
"What can I do for you?" the Captain finally asked, breaking the silence. Sidka had been looking everywhere except her, but his eyes fixed on her when she spoke. He inhaled, hesitating for a moment before seeming to make a decision.
"I have never seen anyone talk to my sister the way you have. Ordinarily, she is silver-tongued, unflappable; but you had her on her heels."
The Captain frowned. "Have I offended the princess?"
"Oh no, no!" he said quickly. "I'm sure it proved yourself to her, if anything, but I . . . well, I wanted to know how you did it."
"How I did it?"
Sidka sighed. "I am a rather . . . new king, and I want to have the power and command my sister had before I was old enough to take the throne. But I have found it difficult."
The Captain shifted in her chair and chuckled incredulously. "So you are asking me?"
He laughed, looking away in embarrassment. "Strange, I know, maybe even foolish. But the only advisor I can trust is my sister, and, well, I don't want to ask her how to take more power from her. The transition has already been . . . trying."
"I can imagine the princess wouldn't take that very well," she chuckled. The prince nodded. "Why didn't she just keep the throne if she wants it so badly?"
"I am not sure," he said, looking out the window with a frown on his sharp features. "She says she does not deserve the throne, that she was only maintaining order until I was old enough to claim it. She says she always intended to give it to me."
"What did your parents intend? Surely they have the final say," the Captain said. Sidka's face darkened.
"I never knew my family. They were murdered just after I was born. Only Lorelai and I were spared."
"I'm sorry," the Captain said sincerely. She understood his pain; she had never known her mother, as she was one of many consorts of the king; the Captain had been taken away and raised by maids when she was still a baby. And her father -- well. Her father had always been a distant figure, giving no love, only judgement.
"It's alright," he said. After an awkward silence, the Captain cleared her throat.
"I recommend that you develop skill in reading people," she said. The prince took a deep breath, seeming grateful for the change in subject.
"Reading people?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded.
"Looking at their body language, for ticks, for tells. Listening to their words, and how they are said, and considering which could be biased, or lies."
"Lies?" he laughed. "What a dark world you must live in, if you are always listening for lies."
"Lies are everywhere, Prince," she said solemnly. His smile fell. "You should learn to watch for them, and plan for them, to protect yourself against them." He swallowed.
"I should let you sleep," he said, standing from his chair. She walked him to the door. Before she could close it, he turned to her.
"Thank you, for the advice . . . " he frowned. "I apologize, I don't know what to call you."
"Captain is fine," she said with a smile.
"Surely your mother did not name you that," he said, his disarming smile back. "Come now, what should I call you?"
"Captain," she said firmly. He chuckled.
"Very well. Tell me, Captain," he said, looking into her eyes earnestly. "Will you tell me your true name someday?"
She laughed despite herself, marveling at his naivety. "Perhaps."
He beamed. "Goodnight, Captain."
"Goodnight, Prince."
She watched him go until he had turned the corner. His steps were steady and sure, the gait of someone who was sure of their place. This prince will die, she thought to herself.
She hoped she was wrong.