“Are they made with anything other than canvas?” Meena asked.
Tillon looked confused. “No. All sails are made of canvas. It’s the only fabric strong enough for it. They say leather would be better, but it would be too heavy and too expensive. So it wouldn’t be better.” Tillon paused. “Why do you ask, my lady? Are you interested in sailcraft?”
“Yes!” Meena replied. “Well, not particularly. I just like learning new things.” She sent a pointed look back to Sol.
He raised his eyebrows in return, finally understanding. Looking back at the sailor, Sol cleared his throat. “Tillon,” he said, “you seem to know much about sailing. Could you explain how tacking works?”
“Tacking?” Tillon replied. “It’s the first thing a sailing lad learns, and it’s easy as climbing the rigging.”
As Tillon launched into an explanation of the maneuver, Meena subtly glided away, climbing down the ladder toward the kitchen.
Sol smiled at her back and sat down on the nearly dry deck. He picked up the piece of tangled rope he’d had earlier and settled in to listen to all he could hear.
Chapter 20
Meena pretended to watch the distant landscape draw nearer on the final day of their journey. In reality, her eyes barely registered the bright blue sky above or the hazy outline of the far-off shore.
Her hand slowly ran up and down the ship’s railing, her fingernail gently prying at a loose sliver of wood.
Sol had been acting particularly awkward since they’d kissed three days prior. He skirted around her without touching her—a surprising feat in the small space they shared—and he continued to address her in a formal manner.
He had been spending most of his time with the sailors, asking them questions and helping them around the ship.
Meena, on the other hand, had done little since then but think about kissing Sol again. Their relationship was merely a strategic partnership, but apparently that hadn’t stopped her heart from dreaming about more. Especially during those rare moments when Sol seemed carefree enough to smile.
She, too, had done her own share of shadowing Tillon and his crew, participating in whatever tasks they would let her touch. Despite the looming danger, these last few days felt as though they were outside of time. She loved strolling the small deck, jesting with the sailors, and having no responsibilities.
And she loved the rare moment when Sol seemed to set aside his constant vigilance and enjoy the same thing.
But it wasn’t just his smile which made her heart pound more quickly. There was something incredibly attractive about the way he approached every action with a thorough intensity. His eyes never appeared dull or vacant. Where he looked, he looked with purpose.
Meena wished he would look at her more often. She wanted to be seen by him.
She yanked on the splinter, breaking it away from the wooden rail.
Clearly, she had developed feelings for him. And it was even more clear that he did not return those feelings. Otherwise, he would not be so ashamed of having kissed her.
Holding the long splinter between her two hands, she snapped it in half. It broke easily with little resistance.
“Tighter, Solano, tighter!” Tillon’s voice sounded down the deck behind her.
Meena turned, leaning her side against the rail so she could more comfortably observe the latest lesson.
Sol grasped a rope which was looped through an iron stay and attached to the top of a sail. Sol pitched his weight against that of the unfurling sail, struggling against the rope.
“Aye, that’s it. We’ll make a sailor of you yet, lad!” Tillon encouraged.
Sol’s face glistened with perspiration as the other end of the rope slowly lifted the hefty sail up the mast.
“Now!” Tillon called.
Sol wrapped the rope around the iron stay, deftly overlapping it in a sailor’s knot that would hold through any storm. At least, Meena assumed that it would.
She threw up her arms and cheered as the intensity on his face melted into a smile of success.
He glanced up at her, seeming surprised that she was watching.
She smiled in response, still clapping.
