“I was so scared last night.” She turned to him. “Thank you for asking the wind—”
Realizing what she was about to say, Sol leaned forward, covering her mouth with his own in a kiss.
Her whole body stiffened with shock and she grabbed his upper arms, but did not pull her face away.
“I am so sorry,” Sol whispered after he ended the awkward but not unpleasant kiss. His hands instinctively held her waist since there was nowhere else for them to go.
Meena still clutched his arms, her eyes wide with shock. “Please don’t apologize,” she whispered. “I ... what ... Ohhhhhh. I almost said it, didn’t I?”
Sol nodded. He could hardly hear her whisper despite the quiet stillness around them. “Perhaps we should have a secret language after all.”
“If that is one of the secret symbols, I’m not complaining.” She still had not taken her hands from his arms.
He stepped back, forcing their contact to end. “I am so sorry, Princess.”
She ducked her head, awkwardly slipping her arms around her own waist. “I can’t believe I almost said that out loud. It was so foolish of me.”
Before Sol could respond, a loud whistle sounded from further down the deck. “It would seem the real storm hasn’t stopped yet,” a sailor yelled.
Sol wished he could dive into the sea and disappear for a moment. He was glad he’d stopped Meena from finishing her sentence about the magic he’d used, but he hoped the sailors were still far enough away they hadn’t heard any of that conversation.
“Good morning, Tillon!” Meena called, her voice loud and cheerfully. A little too cheerful. She quickly made her way across the deck of the ship to join the sailors.
Sol followed her.
“I see your monstrous mer-friend visited us last night to wreak havoc on the ship,” Meena called as she walked.
The captain sputtered in laughter. “Good morning, my lady. Glad to see you are none the worse for wear. Perhaps my nightmares came true after all.”
“What happened to the sail?” Meena asked, pointing to the work in their hands.
“The wind and the waves seemed to be at odds with each other last night, in a way I’ve never seen before. Perhaps it was the mer-monster’s doing.” He paused dramatically. “Anyway, we tried to use the sails to make use of the favorable wind, but you can see the result.” He gestured to the torn sail.
“I’m glad we survived, even if the sail failed us.” Meena said.
“The winds were strong, but they still pulled us through.” Tillon pointed to the full sail on the other mast. “Bertha, there, stayed put.”
Sol looked over to the sail, noting the angle of it against the current breeze. He was glad his wind got them out of the storm, but he was still confused as to how the ship worked against the waves even with the wind on their side.
“Bertha?” Meena had burst into laughter. “You named the sail? And you chose to name it Bertha?”
“Can you think of a better one?” Tillon asked, bristling.
Meena shook her head. “Who’s this then,” Meena gestured toward the down sail.
“This here is Maximilien, but don’t you dare laugh at him now, he gets offended easy, see.”
Meena shook her head, covering a snort with her hand. She looked over at Sol and raised her eyebrows.
Sol scrunched his eyebrows back at her in return, uncertain what she was looking for.
“Tillon.” Meena turned back to the sailor. “What kind of cloth are sails made from to withstand such a powerful force as wind?” She reached down and touched the sail.
“This one here is canvas,” he responded.
“And Bertha?” Meena pointed to the other sail.
“Canvas as well.”
