Chapter Twenty-Six – Discrepancies

  Luxaday, 12 Tamihr, Year of Folivor the Restful Sloth, 489 years AWA

  Aboard The Danrorr’s Fury, Matalis Ocean

  Thydek confirmed Kere's group was assigned to first nooning, and she gathered everyone from their quarters. The meal consisted of bread, cheese, smoked dried fish, and a yaifwi fruit apiece—simple fare, but welcome after a morning adjusting to ship life.

  Sondil looked slightly green, as did Neric, Wenthe, and Cali, though they all accepted their portions gratefully.

  “As we heard during the tour earlier, we have to eat in quarters," Kere explained as they collected their food. "The main deck needs to stay clear for the working shift."

  They crowded into Sondil's quarters—larger than the others', but still snug with all nine of them. Sondil sat on his bunk while the others found spots on the floor or leaning against the walls.

  Monoffa took a bite of cheese, her ears swiveling as she looked around the well-appointed cabin. "This ship is really nice. Do all nobles have ships like this?"

  "A good number of noble families own ships," Sondil said, "though most are merchant vessels for trade. Personal ships like The Fury are... less common."

  "So how'd your family end up with one?" Wenthe asked, always curious about the practical details.

  Sondil's expression shifted—not quite pride, but something close. "We're shrewd businessmen. My home province, Jelnavarro, contains Turistil, which is Andovarra's main trade center. That's given us opportunities other families haven't had." He paused. "Between fortunate investments and, well, being in the right place for emerging trade opportunities, we've done well."

  "Lucky you," Perx said, though his tone wasn't bitter—just matter-of-fact.

  "Luck and calculation both." Sondil glanced down at his barely-touched food. "Though I'd trade some of the calculation for a steadier stomach right now."

  Cali smiled sympathetically. "The seasickness should pass in a day or two."

  "I certainly hope so. It would be rather embarrassing to arrive green-faced at my own wedding."

  That drew chuckles from several of them.

  "Will Princess Charina come back to Andovarra with you?" Cali asked. "Or will you live on Takatari?"

  "She'll come to Andovarra—at least for the first few years." Sondil's expression softened slightly when he mentioned her name. "I'm needed in Turistil to support my uncle Ewald and his sons in running the family business. My older brother commands troops in the military, so I'm the one handling the ledgers and trade negotiations."

  "You don't sound thrilled about the business side," Neric observed.

  Sondil's laugh was rueful. "I'd rather be in the Royal Archives, honestly. Andovarran history fascinates me far more than shipping schedules." He shrugged. "But that's not an option for the King's second son. At least the work itself isn't terrible—just not what I'd choose if choice were the only consideration."

  "What about Princess Charina?" Wenthe's ears flicked forward with curiosity. "Is she happy about moving to Andovarra?"

  "I think so." Sondil's tone grew more careful, but not unhappy. "We've been corresponding since her family visited Andovarra two years ago—that's when we met. She seems... adaptable. Interested in Andovarra. And the marriage benefits both our nations considerably. New trade routes, stronger diplomatic ties."

  "But you're still nervous," Cali said gently, reading something in his expression.

  Sondil gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile. "Is it that obvious? I mean, we get along well in our letters, but letters and actually living together are rather different things. And there's the whole..." He gestured vaguely. "...royal wedding with all the ceremony and political expectations."

  "At least you like her," Wenthe pointed out pragmatically. "Could be a lot worse."

  "True enough." Sondil's smile became more genuine. "Charina has a good sense of humor, from what I can tell. And she's apparently quite interested in botany—keeps asking me questions about Andovarran plant species in her letters. That's endearing, even if I don't know nearly as much as she seems to think I do."

  Monoffa tilted her head, her pupils dilating slightly. "Your words taste like honey mixed with copper. Sweet, but with an edge of something sharp."

  Everyone looked at her. She blinked, seeming surprised by her own observation.

  Sondil considered this. "Anticipation mixed with anxiety? That's probably fair."

  The ship's bell sounded three times—the signal for second nooning.

  "Well, that's your cue," Sondil said. "You need to be back at your posts in the next five minutes."

  Kere, Perx, and Jori took their leave.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  The afternoon passed in tense silence. Kere took the helm when ordered, performed competently under Kridiane’s critical eye, and said nothing. Near sunset, as they prepared to drop anchor, Kridiane grudgingly showed her a technique for reading the ship's response to crosswinds—a brief, almost resentful instruction that nevertheless contained genuinely useful information.

  "Like this," the helmswoman said curtly, demonstrating the wheel adjustment. "Watch the fore sail—there. Feel that?"

  Kere did feel it—the subtle shift in resistance that indicated optimal positioning. "Yes. Thank you."

  Kridiane grunted and turned away, but something in her rigid shoulders had loosened slightly. Not acceptance, but perhaps the recognition that Kere wasn't going to make this harder than it needed to be.

  At full sunset, The Fury dropped anchor and everyone began securing the sails for the night. Once that was done, the main deck was cleared of any obstacles and lanterns were lit throughout the ship. Only after that could everyone go to the galley for dinner. Sondil, the captain, and the officers were served first, while the companions lined up with the rest of the crew afterwards. Nearly everyone found a place to sit on the main deck, though there wasn't much room to spare.

  The meal was simple but hearty—more bread and cheese, a fish stew that smelled of herbs and salt, and dried fruit. Kere collected her bowl and found a spot near the starboard rail, grateful for the open air after a day of work. The lantern light caught on the gentle waves, creating shifting patterns of gold and shadow.

  Jori appeared a moment later with his bowl and settled nearby—not quite beside her, but close enough. There was an awkwardness to the distance that hadn't existed a week ago, a careful negotiation of space that neither acknowledged aloud.

  "How was your day?" she asked, keeping her tone light.

  "Busy enough." He focused on his food, not quite meeting her eyes. "Spent most of it studying charts with Loq. Yours?"

  "The helmswoman is... prickly." Kere decided not to elaborate with others around. "But I learned something useful about reading crosswinds."

  He nodded, and silence stretched between them—not quite comfortable, not quite strained. They were still learning how to be around each other in this new configuration.

  Cali, Monoffa, and Neric approached, looking for places to sit. Cali settled gracefully nearby, though she still looked slightly pale. Neric practically collapsed with dramatic flair. Monoffa found a spot leaning against one of the masts.

  "Thank the gods that's over," Neric groaned, leaning back against a coil of rope. "I thought I was going to die this afternoon."

  "Still feeling ill?" Cali asked sympathetically, though her own complexion suggested she wasn't faring much better.

  "Less than this morning, at least." Neric managed a weak smile. "I'm told it gets better after a few days?"

  "That's what I've heard," Kere confirmed. "Your body adjusts to the motion."

  "My body can't adjust fast enough," Neric muttered, but he was already eyeing the deck with a performer's awareness. Several crew members sat in clusters, talking and eating. His expression shifted to something more calculating—or perhaps just hopeful for distraction from his misery.

  Perx settled down nearby with a contented grunt, looking more relaxed than any of them had seen him since joining the group. The perpetual tension in his shoulders had eased, and there was almost a smile on his weathered face.

  "Feeling better being back at sea?" Kere asked.

  "Forgot how much I missed this." He gestured vaguely at the ship, the water, everything. "Dry land has its uses, but..."

  "But the ocean calls to some people," Kere finished, understanding completely.

  "Exactly." He ate in silence for a moment, genuine contentment radiating from him in a way that was almost startling for someone usually so gruff.

  Monoffa's ears swiveled toward Perx, her pupils dilating. "You taste like warm copper singing through blue glass," she said dreamily. "Happy metal sounds."

  Perx blinked at her, then shrugged and returned to his meal. He was getting better at not questioning the Catfolk's observations.

  Wenthe and Jenna joined them, Wenthe's nose twitching at all the new scents—tar and rope and fish and too many bodies in close quarters. She wrinkled her muzzle slightly but settled in anyway, though her tail flicked with agitation.

  "This ship is so much smaller than it looked from the dock," Wenthe observed. "How do they all live in such tight quarters for weeks at a time?"

  "You get used to it," Jori said quietly. "It's not comfort, it's efficiency."

  "I think I'd go mad," Wenthe muttered, her tail continuing to flick with agitation.

  Sondil approached with his bowl, looking considerably less green than he had at lunch. "Mind if I join you?"

  "Of course not," Cali said warmly, making space.

  "You're looking better," Kere observed.

  "I am feeling better, thank the gods." Sondil settled carefully, as if still not entirely trusting his stomach. "Though I'll be even more grateful when this adjustment period is fully over."

  "At least you're eating," Cali pointed out. "That's a good sign."

  Across the deck, Neric had apparently recovered enough to attempt conversation with a nearby sailor—a woman who looked to be in her thirties with sun-weathered skin and an amused expression. Kere couldn't hear what he was saying, but his body language was classic Neric: charming, slightly flirtatious, carefully calibrated to entertain.

  The sailor laughed at something he said, and Neric's face lit up with pleasure at having an audience again.

  "He bounces back quickly," Jenna observed with a slight smile.

  "He's a performer," Cali said with a hint of fondness in her tone. "He needs people like he needs air."

  Monoffa watched Neric for a moment, her head tilting. "His words make sparkles like sunlight on waves. Bright and dancing and—" She paused, her expression shifting to something more puzzled. "—and underneath, there's green mist that tastes like loneliness shaped into jokes."

  An uncomfortable silence settled over their group. Monoffa seemed to realize she'd said something that landed differently than her usual observations.

  "Did I say something wrong?" she asked, her ears flattening slightly.

  "No," Cali said gently. "Just... surprisingly insightful."

  Perx cleared his throat, apparently deciding to change the subject. "Marzin—the Halfling I'm partnered with—mentioned something odd today. Said these waters have been acting strange lately. Currents shifting unpredictably."

  Kere's attention sharpened. "Strange how?"

  "He wasn't specific. Just said the experienced sailors have noticed patterns that don't match the charts." Perx shrugged. "Could be nothing. Could be normal variation. But it seemed worth mentioning."

  Jori's eyes met Kere's briefly—both clearly thinking of the dream, of currents and accusations and charts that draw themselves. The shared look held longer than their earlier careful glances, united by concern rather than awkwardness.

  "Did he say when this started?" Jori asked Perx, his navigator's mind already working through the implications.

  "Didn't specify. But from the way he talked, it's been recent—maybe the last few months."

  Jori set down his bowl with sudden decision. "I should look at those charts again. Compare what Loq showed me with what Marzin might have noticed."

  He stood, and after a moment's hesitation, Kere did too. "I'll come with you. I'd like to understand what we might be sailing into."

  It wasn't entirely untrue, though they both knew there were other conversations waiting to happen in private.

  "Don't get lost down there," Wenthe called after them with a slight grin.

  As they headed toward the stairs leading below deck, Kere caught Monoffa watching them, her head tilted and her pupils wide. The Catfolk's expression was distant, as if seeing something the rest of them couldn't.

  "They taste like two rivers trying to remember how to flow together," Monoffa murmured to no one in particular. "Same water, different channels now."

  If anyone heard her, they didn't respond.