I hear him turn and sigh, and only when the floor shakes slightly from his footsteps do I raise my head.
“Don’t bother with coming to dinner,” he says without turning around. “You could do with skipping a few meals from the looks of you.”
His insult does nothing to me. I rather prefer it when he finds me revolting.
I wait until I see him leave, then I’m getting to my feet, my leg sore but stable, and run over to the fire. The necklace is on the log, the tooth blackened. I grab the poker and fish it out, dropping it on the wood floor where I hear a slight hiss from the heat.
The metal of the chain doesn’t seem to have melted and the tooth is charred but intact.
The only reminder of who I truly was still remains.
CHAPTER 2
Maren
The sun is relentless and the air, smelling of salt and tar and incense, is becoming thicker and more humid as the morning stretches on. The faint breeze that ruffles the palm fronds doesn’t seem to reach us down at the docks and things are already running behind schedule, the crew and our royal troupe cranky from the heat.
Aerik is especially cantankerous. He’s red-eyed and pale from last night’s festivities with Ferdinand, who is here helping to see us off from the port at Butuan City. I’ve been avoiding my husband as much as I can. I’m lucky that he didn’t leave a mark on me last night but even if he had, everyone would look the other way, as they always do.
“Alright, let’s get underway for god’s sake,” Aerik says with a scowl, pushing past me and onto the gangplank that leads to the ship. It’s been a month since I last stepped foot on the Elephanten, a ship of the line that belongs to the monarchy, which was lent to Aerik for his adventures. As much as I love being at sea and the ship’s size makes living on it fairly comfortable, the idea of being in confined quarters for such a long time makes my palms feel clammy.
His manservant Hodges follows, along with the cook and the rest of the troupe, and some of the crew who also look a little worse for wear. Their month or so on land seems to have lent itself to drinking by the looks of it.
“Always a bit chaotic when we’re casting off, ain’t it Yer Highness?” Daphne says, holding a parasol above me to shield me from the sun and taking my arm as we walk along the gangplank and onto the broad deck of the ship. “Though I don’t like the look of those clouds.”
I follow her line of sight to see a mass of dark clouds in the distance above the green peaks of the nearest islands.
“We should be fine,” I tell her. “That’s north, we’re heading west to the Sulu Sea.”
“Didn’t ye hear?” she says. “Plans changed. We’re making a stop at Manila to get supplies. North it is.”
“Manila?” I repeat. A surge of hope warms my chest. Even with wind in our sails and following seas it will take at least a week for this ship to get to Manila, but once there we’ll be going on shore. There’s a chance I might be able to sneak off and lose myself in the city. I could escape. Part of me wonders if Aerik would put out much of a search for me. He hates me, I know that much, but even after all these years I can’t tell if he needs me despite it.
“Yes,” Daphne says. “I reckon it will be a nice slow start to the voyage. Come along now, we must get yer trunks in yer quarters.”
We head down below to the officers’ quarters where we stay, the servants bringing the chests with all my belongings. Buried at the bottom of the trunk, inside a silk pouch, is Nill’s tooth. I insist to Daphne and the servants that I’ll put everything away myself, but the truth is I just need the proper hiding place for the necklace.
Fortunately, I don’t have to share a bunk with Aerik, who is in the cabin next to mine, which means I’m allotted a bit of privacy. I decide to hide it underneath the thin mattress and hope he never comes across it.
I wipe the sweat from my brow, my chemise already sticking to my skin as the temperature below deck starts to rise. I wish I could go up top to experience the breeze and see us cast off, but I know Aerik would say I am in the way. So I remain below, putting my items away until the sweat is rolling down my chest and arms, then I lie back on the bed.
I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I know my room is shaking and rain and waves are lashing at the window. I sit up, the air no longer smelling of resin and sweat but of fresh sea air and the kind of delicious electricity that comes with a storm.
I adjust my dress and hair, then exit my quarters and quickly make my way up to the deck of the ship, passing by crew and servants who bow to me as I go, until my face is met with a lashing of rain.
“Your Highness, it isn’t safe for you to be up here,” Miguel, one of the crew, says to me as I step on deck.
But I’m not even listening. I feel like something is coming alive. The crew are yelling at each other to adjust the sails and there’s chaos all around me, but I’m enthralled. The rain is warm, the wind is blowing my hair loose, and I actually find myself smiling as I tilt my head back to the sky, which is growing darker by the second. Dusk has descended, deepened by the blackened clouds above and when I look to the west, I see the last light of an orange sunset hovering around the silhouette of the nearest islands.
“You really should go back down below, ma’am,” Miguel says, taking me by the elbow. “This is no place for a woman, much less a princess.”
I glance at him, the rain streaming down my face. “Where is Aerik?”
“He’s being sensible and staying down below.”
“No one ever said I was sensible, did they Miguel?” I say, feeling my spirits returning. I pull away from him and walk carefully across the deck—it doesn’t matter how many years I’ve had legs, walking has always been a bit of an issue for me and I have a slight limp that I can’t hide. I go all the way to the forecastle deck where Ivan, our quartermaster, is standing with the pilot, a local man they’d hired to help navigate the area at night.
“Your Highness,” Ivan says to me in surprise. “You best—”
“Yes, go down below, so I’ve been told,” I say. “I just wanted some fresh air.”
“Be plenty of time for fresh air in the months ahead,” he says, giving his hat a shake before slipping it back on. “But a storm isn’t the best time for it.”
“How bad is it going to get?” I ask, peering out in front of us. Sailing at night, especially between islands where there are lots of reefs and hazards, is always a risky venture. Add in a storm and things can get tricky.
“Shouldn’t be too bad, I reckon,” he says. “We’re passing under, it’s passing above.”
I grip the railing as the ship cuts through the waves and I suddenly wish I was alone up here. Just me and the sea and my thoughts. It feels like my soul is being pulled to the surface of the water.
I fix my eyes to the faraway lights that dot the shoreline on the other side of the dark waves, fires and lanterns of the people who live on these islands. I find myself wondering what their lives are like, if they have any worries. If I could trade my life for theirs.
I blink, my eyes trying to adjust. Some of the lights start to move, as if separating from the island.