At that, he laughs — a real, deep laugh for the first time since I’ve been around him — and sweeps me into his arms and back to the bed.
Chapter 21
The next morning, I scurry to my cabin and use a damp cloth to scrub the residual kohl and stain from my face before donning a more demure dress. The pleasant ache between my legs reminds me of my night with Lennox, and I can't hide my smile as I ready for the day. Lyra rolls towards me as I sit braiding my hair, and she gives me a knowing grin. If she hadn’t been raised in a brothel, I would be mildly embarrassed at her viewing my performance in the crew mess last night, but she has been exposed to far more provocative scenes in her sixteen years.
“He’s not a bad man, Andromeda.” Her voice is rough and drowsy as she stretches and rubs the sleep from her eyes. Her eyes, puffy with dark circles beneath them, still bear the evidence of her tears, but I, of all people, know grief takes its time.
“I know he isn’t,” I reply with a hesitant smile.
He’s far more like me than I care to admit, the thought crosses my mind, but I don’t confide it, not wanting to inspect it too closely myself.
Today the crew will be split between the Bartered Soul and the recently captured sloop. The Archangel is a smaller ship, faster and more maneuverable, and Lennox has ordered Erik to take command of it with a smaller crew to sail alongside us to our destination. When Lennox informed me of the plan this morning, I simply nodded, then took my leave so he could meet with Erik and Pike to discuss the details.
The sun beats down on Lyra and me where we stand on the deck, watching as crewmembers move between the ships, distributing supplies, and readying the vessels to sail. Despite knowing our destination is the islands to the West, I can’t truly comprehend what that means. I’ve heard stories of the exotic islands and have seen drawings of tropical plants and wild beasts that supposedly live there, but I know nothing of value about the island Delosia, other than the small outline representing it on a map. My mind drifts to what life on a tropical island might be like while the crews continue to work, and the ropes connecting us are pulled in. With a loud crack, the sails flap open and catch the wind, sending us on our way, swiftly moving away from the rising sun.
* * *
“Andromeda, will you teach me?” Lyra asks one morning while we push some sort of pale gruel around our wooden bowls to break our fast. I study her face for a moment before answering, trying to determine what exactly she wishes to learn.
“Do you mean…?” I start, quirking a brow in question.
“Herblore. Healing. About the Goddess. I want to have skills and knowledge when we arrive at our new home. I want to be useful for more than my pretty face, or what’s between my legs,” she replies, her lips tight and her expression more serious than I have ever seen.
“Of course,” I answer, offering a smile to her. “You can join me in my surgery after we are finished eating, and I can share the basics and the most helpful things to know.”
Pride swells in my breast at her request. Lyra has grown into a woman on this voyage, between her loss of Charlie and assisting me with healing her uncle. It honors me for her to seek my instruction, even if I’ve never thought of myself as much of a teacher. That she sees me as someone worthy of her respect and emulation pleases me, and I find that I’m even a bit excited to take on the role. If my life had been different, if I were still at the temple, this is what I would be doing – preparing young initiates for the rites and aiding them on their path to become a priestess.
We spend hours in the surgery reviewing different herbs and their uses – chamomile for nerves, peppermint for upset stomach, willow bark for pain relief, and raspberry leaves to prepare a woman for birth. I don’t touch on the stronger herbs that she might find useful should she end up helping women in a House like the one we left, or on how to create blends or tinctures yet, but she is curious and eager to learn.
Hopefully, I can teach her more before we arrive, and I decide to ask Lennox for parchment or a journal so Lyra can create her own notebook to keep. Then, she will have the knowledge at hand, whether she is with me or not.
The thought of being parted from the young woman opens a pit in my stomach. The last time I had someone I called a friend was at the temple, the need to protect myself always winning out over the desire to allow anyone to truly know me since the day I fled. But Lyra, I find, I’ve come to adore.
Perhaps we won’t have to part. We could each find work at a public house or tavern at our destination, share lodging, and keep each other safe. A protective instinct flares to life in me at the thought, even if the fact that she has come to feel more like a little sister or a daughter in these weeks brings an unbidden smile to my lips.
The sun is high in the sky, glistening over the water as I walk the deck that afternoon. I nibble on a hard biscuit, ignoring the holes made by the unavoidable tiny bugs that have stowed away in the hardtack, and allow myself to ponder a possible future. In the past week, since opening our sails and moving alongside the sloop, the temperatures have climbed and the time on deck is invigorating — hot sunlight on my skin and cool sea mist tickling my face.
The water has changed from treacherously dark, mysterious depths to crystalline blue and turquoise the farther West we travel. The clever creatures the sailors call dolphins are a delight as they frolic alongside the ships, jumping from the waves with joy. Sweat drips down my back in the hot sun, and I’m thankful that the Captain provided Lyra and me the lightweight pieces made of cotton and linen. It hasn’t escaped my notice that he has taken to only wearing a linen shirt on deck instead of his grand overcoat, when he dons a shirt at all.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Lennox steps from his cabin, tattooed chest and arms glistening in the sun’s rays. He claps one of the crewmembers on the shoulder as he passes them with a smile. It’s only been a night since I last shared his bed, and yet, I find myself mesmerized by his easy confidence. His hair has faded to its true golden hue, and it hangs a bit longer than it did when I first stepped aboard. Days-old stubble along his jaw glints in the bright sun, shimmering against his tan cheeks. The menacing sea monster I feared in the House of Starlight is nowhere to be found in this man. Instead, he is as bright as Helios himself, almost outshining the sun.
When his eyes meet mine as they linger on his frame, he gives me a wry smile, one brow raised in question. I avert my gaze and fail to contain my own smile as he approaches, stopping to stand at my side.
“Good afternoon, my pretty priestess. The warmer weather seems to suit you. Or is that flush on your cheeks my doing?” he flirts.
“I’m quite certain it is a sunburn, thank you, Captain,” I reply smartly, although I can feel my cheeks darken with a blush at his rakish comment and the memories of where his stubble has grazed them, and other places, recently.
Warmth blooms in my chest when I glance over at him standing at my side at the rail. My heart aches knowing our final port grows closer with every day, and that I will have to part with this man. The man I hated for coercing me to agree on this journey in the first place. The man I gave myself to in honor of the Goddess years ago. The man who is causing the emotions I have kept bound tightly in my chest to finally loosen.
The man I might even — dare I say — love.
I can’t bear to admit it, even if only to myself, though what I feel for him goes beyond the physical. I gave up the hope of finding love years ago — first when I committed to becoming a priestess, then again when I lost everything and found myself on the steps of the House of Starlight. But the tightness in my chest and flutter in my stomach when I look at Lennox is unlike anything I’ve felt before, no matter how much I try to ignore it.
It’s ironic that initially, I worried that the Captain would use me and discard me, that he would leave me so broken that I wouldn’t be able to return to my life in Selennia. Now, I am more afraid of being separated from him and the freedom I have felt these past weeks, than I ever was of stepping onto this ship. But, the thought of being cold and alone again is too much for me to consider when the sun is warm on my skin. He owes me nothing more than what he agreed to at the outset of this voyage, and I have no right to expect more. There is no room for me to explore these wistful thoughts now, I am determined to make the most of the last few weeks we have together.
“Lyra tells me you agreed to teach her your knowledge of herbs. That’s kind of you,” he says, gazing out at the horizon. The sun sinks lower in the sky, and I look forward to another beautiful sunset with pinks and oranges fading into the blues of the sea.
“She’s clever, I am happy to share my knowledge.” His hand rests near mine on the rail, and the nearness makes me feel like a young girl being courted when his little finger brushes against mine softly. The small motion sends chills skipping up my arm and desire coursing through my belly.