Page 59 of Prince of Masks
The words are dark and shadowy through my sunglasses, and my eyes are quick to tire, but it’s pleasant all the same. The wind lashes at me, a cool and welcome sensation over the beads of sweat and sea mist.
I must be careful not to let it fool me.
If I sit out in the misty breeze under the sunrays too long, I’ll burn.
I am the only one of my family who burns, and when I do, it isn’t unlike overcooked crackling. Leave me out long enough and I sizzle. I turn a ghastly bright red, and my skin peels. It’s quite ugly.
Oliver doesn’t have that problem.
So he soaks up as much sun as he can.
On the cabin roof opposite me, he lies on his back with tanning oil layered all over him. I suspect he’s asleep, since he looks so relaxed, so peaceful. Passed out after a long night of gambling at the casino.
Their night must have been a long one.
Even Father is quieter than usual this morning.
At the bow of the yacht, he and Harold rest on loungers as my mother and Amelia watch for dolphins and orcas through their golden binoculars.
I watched a while before I tired of it.
That leaves me back here with Oliver and Dray.
Dray lounges on the same roof as Oliver, but his arm his hooked under his head like a pillow, and his cheek presses to his elbow, his face angled my way.
I glance at him every other moment to see if he’s looking at me, but we are both hidden behind sunglasses, so it’s impossible to tell.
He could be staring at my breasts or the strip of fabric shielding my core, and I wouldn’t know.
I wear only my bathing suit, white and sleek, with cut outs down the back and at the waist. I should cover up, not only to shield myself from the possibility of Dray’s stare, but also to protect myself from the sun.
A heavy sigh deflates me.
I throw a longing look up the side of the boat to the bow, where my tote was abandoned two hours ago. I decide my shawl is too far away—and frankly, I can’t be bothered.
Mother is up there, and she has been a bit off with me since dinner last night. If I intrude on their commandeered spot, I’ll be a target for snide remarks, as I was at the start of the day before I snuck down here.
Then again, the bow is far away from Dray and Oliver.
And I’m torn between two evils.
Amelia and Mother will be fussing over my weight if I join them (I’m down only three pounds), or talking incessantly about upcoming fashion shows, my gown, or stupid Dray and his stupid scar.
I decide to stay put.
This is surprisingly the lesser of two great evils, because out here in the open like this, Dray and Oliver won’t touch me.
Besides, they are both resting, oblivious to my existence.
And I was here first. If anyone should leave, it’s them—
I blink, my lashes dragging on the insides of the sunglasses. I worked myself up too much, let my mind get carried away from me, soured.
All for nothing.
I return my tired stare to the page and try to focus.
I read nothing, not a word, and fleetingly wonder if I should sneak into the dining room for a nap.
