Now, finally, I have a moment of peace and quiet.
I head down into the ship's hull and end up in my office, which used to be the ship’s formal dining parlor. Instead of fancy parties, it houses the safe where I keep the ship logs, most of the ship’s weapons, and the black-market bullets manufactured to take down the largest beings in Aranthium.
Pushing open the door to my office, my lips tilt up in anticipation of my soft leather chair when I suddenly stop. A red-haired sailor is bent over my bookshelves, pawing through my novels as though he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Tell me there’s a good reason you’re in my private office, Anders.” I snarl, not even trying to temper my words.
The sailor straightens so fast he hits his head on the floating shelves I keep behind my desk. “Dammit,” he curses, holding a large hand to his head. He turns around, his eyes widening when he sees me.
“Anders, you have two seconds to explain yourself, or you'll find yourself sleeping with the fish.” I cross my arms over my chest, glaring daggers at the sailor.
The man joined my crew last year after I picked him up in the Spring Mer territory. So far, he had proven himself to be a trustworthy sailor.
Until now.
Anders shifts, his red hair almost brown in the light. His brown eyes widen as he stares at me, holding a crumpled paper in my direction. “Cap-cap-captain,” he gulps, stumbling over his words. “I was just... the lady gave me a note when I brought her lunch, and I thought...”
Strolling forward, I snatch the piece of paper out of his hands.
Is there anything to read on this ship? I’ve never been so bored in my life.
“So you thought you would go through my personal library for our guest? Without asking permission?”
Anders pales, and I note with satisfaction that he is trembling. “I just thought...”
“That’s the problem. You aren’t paid to think. And you are paid generously, correct?”
“Yes,” he croaks.
“Exactly. You are here to listen to me, not anyone else. I’ll deal with this.” I wave the paper in the air. “You’re not to come in here or associate with Madeline. Is that clear?”
He nods. “Crystal, sir.”
Before I can say another word, he turns and runs out of my office. I give up all hope of a peaceful afternoon and stomp toward the Princess’ room. She and I are going to have a little chat.
* * *
When I seeher room at the end of the hallway, a piece of paper is stuck to the front of the door. It’s fluttering in the breeze from an open window, and when I get closer, I see a crudely drawn picture of...
Me.
There is something scrawled in less-than-splendid penmanship on the bottom of the note. I squint, reading:
If you have a stick up your ass, go away!
Blood rushes to my head, and a roaring fills my ears. With a huff, I tear the note off the door with my right hand. Crumpling the paper, I bang my left fist against the wood. I pound my prosthetic so hard echoes of pain break through the cloud of fury that has surrounded me since I found Anders trespassing in my office forher.
“Open the door this instant, Princess. We need to talk.”
There is no response, but I know she’s there.
“Princess,” I accentuate each word with another bang. “Open the gods-damned door, or I’ll break it down.”
There’s a shuffling sound on the other side before the door cracks open, just enough to let me see into the small room.
Helena is staring at me, her pink eyes filled with fury and anger. Her lips are pursed, and her jaw is clenched. A rainbow of muted, deep ocean colors overwhelms me like an icy wave whenever she moves. Her hair is wild and untamed, and she looks like vexation personified. A slight chill snakes from her room.
She tilts her head. A silent, demanding question is in her eyes.What?