Page 29 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

Chapter Eighteen

Katrin

After Katrin and Ander spoke, the night seemed to come quickly. The winds picked up and the seas turned a deeper green and gray. A storm might not be far off. Katrin stayed on the deck for a while after contemplating why she was always destined to be swept away on the tides. A princess doomed to relive her tragic past day in and day out.

When Katrin had enough of the wallowing and self-pity—or at least grew bored enough at staring out at the expanse of sea—she wandered the edges of the ship. Circling around, but never really going anywhere. The crew would think she was a strange woman, padding about in oversized clothing, not offering her help with daily chores. To hell with them all—they must know she was not aboard The Nostos willingly.

Rumbling and twinges of shooting pain came from her stomach. She aimlessly wandered about the worn deck for so long, Katrin didn’t realize how hungry she became. Ander left the spread of bread and fruits for her in the cabin, but she was too worried, or stubborn, to eat any of it now.

Her hand flew to her stomach as another roll let out a loud gurgling noise. It was late. There were only a few crew members manning the sails on deck. The others, she figured, were below, filling their bellies in the galley.

Katrin stepped down into the main corridor below, encountering a wisp of something delicious lingering in the air. She followed the scent to a door halfway down the hall. Glancing inside, she saw the rest of the crew sitting about the room, stuffing their faces with all sorts of things she wished to snag. Devouring mugs of ale she also wished to have—if only to turn off the unending fear that clawed at her mind.

At the back of the room, a table was filled with the spreads of food. Olive oil, bread, jams and figs. Freshly cooked fish seasoned in something Katrin could not make out. And wine. So much wine. She could forget about stomaching the bitter tasting ale and indulge in deep red liquid instead. Stepping inside the room, she made her way through the crowd of drunken men to scoop up as much unpoisoned food as she could before they noticed the only female that seemed to be aboard this ship.

A dark hand caught her shoulder, pulling her back ever so slightly. “Ah, not so fast, Princess.”

Leighton spun her around before she could even throw one morsel of food into her mouth. It would be starvation then—that was this ship’s form of torture.

“The captain told me I could do as I please on this ship and what I please is to have some of that food.” Katrin’s tongue grazed her bottom lips. Gods, she was almost foaming at the mouth to get some of that fish. Any of it, really.

“You can have all the food you want, but unfortunately, your meal is in your cabin,” Leighton chuckled.

There it was. The reality setting in. She would be bound to that gods-forsaken cabin once more. Ander let her out for a day—one final day to breathe in the fresh salty air before it all went to shit. “It’s not my cabin, it’s the captain’s.” Her lip twitched into a scowl.

“For the foreseeable future it is yours as well.”

Katrin fisted her palms at her sides, all she could hear was the pounding of her own blood boiling in her ears. “Ander told me I am not a prisoner and now you tell me I can only eat by myself, bound in the four small walls of those quarters?” Who cared if she raised her voice, no one knew her here. She would make a scene if she wanted to.

Emerald eyes widened and then crinkled at the side, matching a small smirk across Leighton’s lips. “You mistook me, Princess. You will not be eating alone. The captain requests that you join him for all meals.”

It was impossible not to roll her eyes for the one millionth time today. “Of course he does,” Katrin grumbled. “Am I to wear some fancy gown he favors as well, or will these poor man’s clothes do?” She fawned her arms over her body.

“You can wear whatever you like, Princess. I’m sure Alexander will not care either way. Now hurry along, he has been waiting.”

“I’m sure he has.” Katrin flipped a vulgar gesture at Leighton, before storming off toward the end of the hall. These men were insufferable. It was the last time she would let men tell her what she could and could not do.

Despite her rumbling stomach, Katrin tried to take her time wandering down the very short corridor. As she approached the door to her—to his—to their cabin, she contemplated knocking or just barging right in to demand why Ander thought he could summon her at will. She was just about to shove the door open when it creaked aside and a smirking Ander leaned against its frame.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”

“As if I have a choice.” Katrin pushed him aside and waltzed into the room.

Ander’s features softened, the light in his eyes fading slightly. “You always have a choice with me, Starling.”

She flopped down into one of the chairs. Katrin may have been forced to spend time with him, but no one said she needed to be cordial about it. “Why do you even call me that? I’m not some bird.”

“You think I call you that because of some chattering bird?”

“What else could it mean?” It had bothered her all day, the somewhat familiar name lingering in the back of her mind. Starling, Starling, Starling. But she could not place where it was from, where she heard it before.

“That’s a story for another time.” Ander smirked once more, the dimple in his right cheek on display. It would help her hate him more if he didn’t look so damned handsome or speak with an air of kindness in his tone. But his warmth was a facade. His way of ruining her even more. Just like in the mountains, Katrin could only trust the captain as far as she could throw him.

“You seem to say that a lot.”

“Hmm…never really thought about it.” Ander shrugged. He pointed down at the display of food along the low table in front of her. “The chef brought everything he made, I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Katrin wanted to scream everything, but she refused to indulge whatever weird fascination this man had with her and food. “I’m not hungry.” She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping the pressure would ease the pangs coming from her empty stomach.

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