“What plan?” Meena asked, her voice rising a bit. “Of course it will fail if you don’t accept help.”
“Failure means death, Princess,” Sol said bluntly.
“I know,” she responded, standing from her seat on the bed and stepping away from him to lean back against the wall.
This created a little more distance between them, but now Sol could clearly see the expression on her face. And it was not necessarily a view he appreciated.
“I don’t want you to die,” she continued. “I don’t want my family to be destroyed by this chaos magic. I saw my brother get cursed by a Majis—” She stopped speaking with a groan, covering her face with her hands. “See, I still can’t even say it right. A Quotidian mage. I feel as though I’ve been swimming in a beautiful sea, but I never put my head under the water to notice the murky sea floor below is rotting away. Now I’ve seen it and I can’t unsee it.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Sol said as she took her hands from her face.
“Never mind. It’s just a feeling I don’t understand yet.”
Sol stayed silent.
“Let me help you,” she said. “I don’t know if I have any skills to offer, but at the very least I can put all my fancy dresses to use and distract the other nobles so you can do some cyphering.”
“That actually would be helpful,” Sol replied. He’d expected her to interact with the other members of her class—a task he had no comfort in doing—but he had not considered working strategically together on it. The less she knew about this mission, the less anyone knew about this mission, the better.
“Should we assign a sort of language to use?” Meena asked. “A way to secretly signal to each other whether a conversation is merely social or if it is part of the mission?”
Sol shook his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“But what if I’m talking to someone and you need me to keep asking the questions?”
“The less we communicate about this, the better,” Sol replied. Working together was too risky. He would do this alone.
“I’ll follow your lead, then.” The princess relaxed her stance. “I am here to aid you—not get in your way.”
“Thank you.” Sol exhaled. “Are you hungry?” He asked, quickly changing the topic of conversation.
“Starving,” Meena replied, moving to the door.
“The fresh bread got soaked last night, but the stew is hot,” Sol said as he stood from the bed.
“Sol.” Meena stopped in the doorway, blocking his passage. “We are on this ship for four more days.” Her face lit up. “Why don’t you ask the sailors? We are literally stuck here with nothing necessary to do.”
“Ask the sailors?” His mind was still on their conversation and he had no idea what she was referring to.
“About sailing!” she explained. “They know everything there is to know about it, or at least more than either of us.”
Sol hesitated. The sailors had not been overly friendly with him, and he didn’t blame them. He was playing the part of royalty. He had a title he despised. He would despise himself if he was in their position.
“They seem friendly enough,” Meena persisted despite his reticence.
“With you, perhaps,” Sol responded. The princess had a title too, yet somehow the sailors overlooked that and enjoyed her company.
She looked over her shoulder at him, brown eyes open wide and lips curved in a welcoming and happy smile.
Of course the sailors enjoyed her company. No one could be intimidated by her energetic personality. Sol wanted to be angry at the ease with which she carried through life. Perhaps that was what she meant when she said it felt as though her whole life were spent above the water on a beautiful sea. He was jealous of her, yes. But he could not be angry at her. In the short time he had known her, she had constantly focused on making Celesta happy, protecting her family and kingdom, and now aiding him. It was little wonder the sailors loved her. “They have been less friendly toward me,” he tried to explain when he realized she was still waiting for him to speak.
She turned back around and led him through the door onto the deck of the ship.
Sol followed her, still deep in thought. Fortunately, his spatial awareness remained alert or he would have walked right into her back when she stopped abruptly a few steps later.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. Her hands were clasped at her chest and she stared out at the calm, glassy sea. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes. “The sun. The water. The stillness.”
Sol looked from her to the ominously peaceful water. If he hadn’t witnessed its recent storm, he would have called it beautiful as well.
