Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Seraphina

My father has me mopping the decks after my little escapade I pulled last night. He wasn't as amused by my small prank as I found it. I've noticed that my punishments have been less severe as of late. 

It makes me feel uneasy�"something in my gut tells me to be on high alert. 

The ship moans against the waves. It's hot enough to feel the heat of the wooden planks seep through the soles of my boots. I tip over the bucket of soapy water, which splashes and pools on the floors, and I scrub it with a bristle brush. 

My back aches, and my knees throb after spending hours in the mid-day sun scrubbing the entire ship. I grip my stomach as it churns, signaling it's time for lunch.

One of the many nonsensical rules of my punishment is that I only eat once the chores are completed. The Captain thinks of it as a ‘reward’ I must earn. Nothing is ever handed to you. As a pirate, you must take it by force or work for your earnings. As his daughter, I couldn't use forceful tactics against him. He knows all of my weaknesses, and disobeying him would only endanger the one I care for.

Speaking of work, I wonder if Killian is in his office. I should see if he’d like anything from the kitchen.

 I walk down below decks towards the back of the ship�"his office is next to my father’s chambers. Since I am a woman amongst a bunch of rowdy, crude men who aren't familiar with boundaries, I was given a small chamber room right across from Killian’s cabin. The rest of the crew share a space at the belly of the ship and sleep in hammocks or on the floor. 

It's also close to where the rum is stored�"I've become very familiar with that area.

I reach Killian’s office, and I raise my fist to knock�"“Come in, Seri.” Killian’s muffled, rugged voice travels from the other side of the door. 

I blink in surprise and open the door to step inside, “How’d you know it was me?”

“You have a very distinct walk.” He smirks and gives me a quick glance as he shuffles through a mess of papers. 

My eyes glaze over to him and then�"to his bedroom. I’ve been in here a thousand times, and each time, I have never wrapped my head around how he manages to work and sleep in here. His room is, to put it nicely, a complete mess�"like a pack of wild dogs has come in and thrown a temper tantrum. When was the last time he did laundry? His boots and clothes are strewn everywhere as if he never finds the time to fold or put anything away. Bundles of maps are pinned to the walls, and wax candles have melted across his dresser to the point that the wax will remain there permanently, damaging the fine wood. Although he seems to have his life together, his room does not reflect that.

“A ‘distinct walk,’ you say?” I take a few more steps closer to his desk, crossing my arms with one brow raised.

“After knowing each other for so many years, there comes a certain point in one’s relationship where you develop a sixth sense.” 

I clear a pile of junk from the chair across his desk and sit down, propping my feet up with my dirty boots in his face. “You make little sense, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’m just joking. It was a lucky guess.” 

“Yes, I know. You are so lucky to see this exquisite face every day,” I motion to my own face. You should be grateful I grace your presence. I'm kinda a big deal around these parts."

“Oh really? Playing a rank card now, are we?" He rolls up the ends of his sleeves and crosses his tanned arms, "I think that hat of yours is getting too small for your big head,” his dimples are revealed through his cocky grin, “And get your gross a*s feet off my desk, were you raised in a barn?” He pushes my legs away.

My brow arches in disbelief. I scan his room as if it were messier than my manners. 

“No,” I reply, a hint of amusement in my voice. 

“I was raised by pirates.”

~

Killian said he wasn’t hungry and had too much work on his plate. He politely hinted he wanted me to leave when he started talking about this girl he had crossed paths with at the market the other day. She was very adamant about seeing him again later that night. I ran out of the room before he could get out another word, slamming the door so hard I heard something shatter. I hope it wasn't expensive. 

There are things in which we silently agreed to not speak about�"and lovers are one of them. Even though I am well aware of the women who hound him whenever we travel to The City, I can’t help but feel a tinge of… jealousy. I've had opportune moments to share my bed with another, but my heart is reserved for the one person who will only ever see me as a friend.