Page 2 of Dragons' Bride
A hush ripples throughout the ship as Tavias steps onto the deck. Two columns of sailors snap to attention, all the others tugging their forelocks. The handful of males who I presume are officers tip their hats in dignified greeting. Someone even plays a welcoming jig on a pipe. It’s as elaborate as anything I’ve ever seen.
A cool sea breeze kisses my cheeks, the air nippier here than it was on shore. Up above us, seagulls caw insistently, unaware and uncaring of the formalities unfolding on deck.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with golden epaulets and an elongated hat strides forward to Tavias. He has a slightly rolling gait and an aura of command that makes him seem even larger than he is. "Welcome aboard the Phoenix, Your Highnesses. It is an honor to have you back." He turns to me, and his face grows blank of emotion of any kind. I don’t know if I’ve somehow offended him already. "Lady Cordelia. Welcome. I am Captain Dane of the Royal Phoenix."
"Um...you have a beautiful boat, Captain," I say, trying to buy myself a few seconds of time to think by looking around. Clearly, the news of our changed plans hadn't made it to the pier, and I'm not sure how – and who – is supposed to break the news.
The captain's lips tighten. "Frigate, Lady Cordelia. The Phoenix isn't a boat, she is a frigate."
"And she isn't Lady Cordelia, but Lady Kitterny," says Hauck, swaggering up to my side. He puts a possessive arm around my waist. "So, I'd say you are even."
I am waiting for one of the princes to elaborate on the change, but no one does. Nor do any of them seem the least bit uncomfortable about the suddenly elevated claim of my birth. It certainly makes me uncomfortable.
Dane tips his hat toward me. “Of course. Forgive the oversight, Lady Kitterny.” He blades his body to address the group. “Your quarters have been prepared and we finished loading the cargo this morning. I hope you might do us the honor of joining my officers and me for dinner this evening.”
Tavias nods his head graciously, which seems to signal the end of the formalities because the sailors on deck disperse to their duties at once. Seizing advantage of the moment, I take in the ship. The towering masts dwarf me immediately, the tallest of them stretching so far into the sky that I can barely see its tip. Most of the sails are furled, but the Massa’eve’s golden dragon flag billows and snaps in the wind.
Captain Dane briefs Tavias on the winds and currents, estimating two to three weeks of travel before we enter Faewave Rift, the stretch of ocean separating the human world from Lunos. On the northern continent, the barrier between the realms is on land, with Mystwood forest separating the two. Few who go into Mystwood come back alive. I don’t imagine Faewave Rift is much safer.
According to Dane, the rift is shrouded in mist and constantly shimmering with a pale purple light, as if the very fabric of reality is being stretched and warped. That alone sounds bad enough, but then Dane goes on to warn how treacherous and unpredictable the waters themselves are, with strong currents and sudden gales appearing out of nowhere.
I guess if the rift was anything but horrible and deadly, it wouldn’t be much of a barrier. No human ships that have attempted the crossing have ever returned, but Dane’s Phoenix obviously made it through, as have a few other fae vessels over the years. Provided we don’t die in the crossing – a fact that Dane and the princes are a great deal more confident about than I am – it will be a few more weeks of sailing to get to Massa’eve.
“Lady Kitterny,” an unexpected, musical female voice catches my attention and I turn to find a woman in loose colorful trousers and matching top bowing to me. She has a short pixie haircut, barefeet, and a body that seems made for acrobatics even when she stands still. “My name is Nora. I am your maid. May I take you down to your stateroom? I’ve fresh water ready to help you wash off from the road and your clothes have already been received and put away.”
My maid? My clothes? I hadn't realized the princes had taken the time to wrangle the order from the seamstress. Even a single clean dress sounds glorious right now, and the water even more so. I’m more than glad to indulge in both, though I certainly won’t require a maid to help me about. Nora ushers me toward a ladder to the lower deck, speaking with a quiet, animated voice the entire time.
“You’ve the most beautiful gowns I’ve seen in some time. I cannot wait to see how they look on you in the flesh. A girl’s imagination will only take her so far.” Nora’s voice has the song-like accent that’s different from the princes, and she speaks a great deal faster than they do, as if she only has a limited time in which to deliver her words. “I’ve stashed some rose scented soap for you as well. If you might allow me to wash your hair, I would be happy to weave some of your jeweled barrettes into your braid. I’ve always found that clean hair can do magic.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that I own no hair barrettes, jeweled or otherwise. Not that I have much of an opportunity to get a word in until we get to the door Nora says is mine. Here, I finally put my palms up, stopping Nora in her tracks.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done, Nora, but you don’t need to help me get washed and changed. I’m sure you’ve better things to do.”
“Have I displeased you, my lady?”
“No. Of course not. I’m just…” Not a lady. “I just don’t want to be trouble.”
“Trouble? Why in the world would taking care of you be trouble?” She sounds genuine.
“I personally can think of many more entertaining activities than washing my hair, and it is my hair.”
Nora laughs and opens the door to the cabin. I take one step inside and stop. It’s larger than I imagined something on a ship would be, and gorgeously decorated with golden inlays all over the walls and furniture. There is even a carved armoire with a mirror large enough to see my whole body. All that, and several chests of clothing plus a temporary brass tub. It’s very small, but it's steaming with fresh warm water. A cabin suited for a queen, not a servant girl.
“These can’t possibly be my quarters.”
“They are a bit small,” Hauck says from behind us, his entire body blocking the doorway. He is still dressed as he was for travel, but the brown trousers and dark shirt betray the lethal cut of his muscles and only highlight his otherworldly beauty. Truly, no one should be able to make a girl’s knees go soft just by leaning against a doorframe. Hauck waves a hand. “No matter. They’ll do for your day time needs. You won’t be sleeping here, after all.”
“I won’t?” I eye the hanging bunk with a thick mattress and clean sheets.
“Of course not. You will be sharing a bunk with one of us each night. And by bunk, I mean bed. And by sharing I mean–”
“I get what you mean.” Heat rushes to my face. I’m afraid to look at Nora. I don’t know what she is making of all this, but whatever she is imagining is probably right. And that only makes everything worse.
Hauck grins, a mischievous streak appearing in his green eyes. Along his temple, golden scales ripple with a hint of turquoise. “Well turnip, you know, we do have to prepare you for–”
“I got it.” For stars sake. “Please stop talking now. I’m sure there is someone here who is missing the pleasure of your company, but it's not me.”
Nora lets out a small little gasp.
