“I don't know where he learned those manners,” Hugin laughed as he took Arnet's place at the railing. “The man has been living with a master hunter for four years.”
“Four years?” I asked.
“We have all just recently returned from apprenticeships,” Barret clarified. “Each of us has learned a trade.”
“Our father couldn't support us any longer,” Hugin shrugged, “and none of us wanted to take up his mantle of being a fisherman.”
“The sea has no allure for you?” I looked pointedly across the expanse of sparkling, sapphire water. Their father was a fisherman. Well, that explained their knowledge of ships.
“Now she teases,” Hugin said to his brother. “Look at how we've improved her disposition within minutes.”
“It wasn't you,” I teased further with haughty disdain. “My royal self has decided to enjoy this journey, if you recall.”
“My mistake, Your Highness,” Hugin barked out a laugh before executing a perfect bow.
“And you,” I narrowed my eyes on him. “You seem to have manners as courtly as your hunter-brother.”
“I was trained to be a stargazer,” Hugin shrugged. “My master was so revered, that royalty would come to visit him. I learned things,” he gave me a wink nearly as scandalous as Robyn's. I lifted a brow at Hugin, and he blushed, his skin going red up to his blonde roots. “My apologies for the liberties I've taken.”
“No,” I sighed. “My apologies to you. I was enjoying our casual banter until I went and ruined it. It's so ingrained you see. The rules of behavior. I've trained for my position far longer than all of you have apprenticed.”
“Is it really that complicated?” Barret asked. “Being a princess?”
“Oh yes,” I nodded. “From a very young age, I was taught how to speak, how to act, and how to dress. I had to learn the correct ways to address members of the court. How to eat properly, breathe properly,liveproperly,” I may have put just a little venom into the last bit.
The brothers stared at me incredulously.
“Well then, I decree that there shall be no more propriety on this journey,” Hugin declared. “We shall all behave exactly as we wish!”
“I always do that,” Robyn called down to us.
I couldn't help smiling up at him. Robyn's smile froze, then fell open a bit as he stared at me. His black eyes seemed suddenly intense, and I blinked in confusion. What had I done now? But then Robyn looked away, scowling, and I watched his jaw clench. I saw Arnet staring at him shrewdly, and when he noticed me, he gave me a little shrug. So maybe there was more to the hooded man than casual flirtation.
“Very well,” I finally agreed to Hugin's rash declaration. “Let's all be like Robyn, and do as we please.”
The brothers cheered. I felt myself smiling again. Truly, I hadn't been so happy in years. Perhaps being abducted by a dragon had been good for me.
Chapter Five
Two nights later, we were dining in the Captain's quarters as usual. It was kind of amazing to have an entire ship to ourselves. I felt like a child, playing at being a pirate. The men had given me the Captain's bedroom since it was the nicest quarters on the ship, and they'd each taken one of the finer guest rooms. It was all very respectable.
Arnet had turned out to be quite the fisherman, despite his dislike of the profession, and had shot several fish daily, to add to our supplies. Yes, shot. He simply aimed his wondrous gun at them and boom! We had fresh fish. They floated up to the surface and Barret would scoop them out with a net.
Robyn always cooked, the others helping by preparing the rations we used from the ship's stores; vegetables, bread, and some fruit. The food was always good, though simple. I loved it, and I loved dining with them. No worrying about which fork to use or how to hold it. No drinking dainty sips from my glass. No holding myself rigidly straight in my seat. No fumbling for polite conversation with some boring guest.
I had relaxed. Me, Princess Adelysia, relaxed and enjoyed meals. All of them. Even the simple fare of water, biscuits, and fruit we ate in the mornings to break our fast. I was having fun. There wasn't a minute aboard that was boring or tedious. Even when we all just sat silently together near the helm, watching the sea while Robyn steered, I had basked gleefully in the quiet. The companionable quiet. It was a rare thing indeed to be able to sit silently with someone without feeling the overwhelming need to fill the silence. But with the brothers, I was at peace.
Peace. Such a small word, and yet it held such strong emotion for me. I treasured the peace I found in those few days with them. I suspected that I would treasure it forever, and the only thing hindering this new found happiness was the knowledge that it would soon end. So I pushed those thoughts away, and determined, even more strongly, to enjoy my time with them.
This particular dinner was a special one because it would be our last together. We were close to land now, and should reach it sometime within the next day. Despite the impending end of our journey, I found myself smiling, delighting in the brother's, now familiar, antics. They each provided stories and witty conversation to pass the time, far above the standard drivel I was used to getting from the men at home. There were so many jaded courtesans, who spoke flowery words to me because they felt compelled to, while they cast longing glances at women they could actually bed.
The brothers knew they couldn't have me, and yet they seemed to enjoy my company anyway. They laughed when I said something funny (which I amazingly did often- I had no idea I could be comedic), they teased me when I told embarrassing stories of learning the ways of royalty, and they listened to everything I said with a focus that seemed to be genuine interest. I say “seemed” because I was raised around artifice, and I knew that often, things which people said or did, were not as they appeared.
But with the brothers, it felt truly genuine.
I found myself studying them. Each man was striking in his own way. Each man possessed his own type of charm. And each man treated me with a casual courtesy that went beyond the respect I was shown at home. If only I could have a husband like one of them, I would count myself lucky.
I blinked in surprise at my thoughts. When had I come to value them as men? To see them as potential lovers or husbands and not just my rescuers? It was a bittersweet fantasy to indulge in. I could never have any of them. Their social ranking separated us more solidly than a soaring stone wall. I would do well to begin distancing myself from them.
