Brightly Burning(22)



With that, I led Jessa up to Deck Two. Just as I realized I had no idea where to go next, Jessa grabbed my hand and nearly dragged me along, stopping before we reached the dining quarters.

“This is it,” she announced. We stood before a door that looked like any other, yet somehow it seemed statelier than the rest. “We have to knock,” Jessa instructed. She deferred to me, so I did. Three short raps. Tentative.

“Enter!” came a muffled bark from the other side, so I hit the button that controlled the door.

The room beyond was decadent. Tapestries that I suspected were of ancient Earth origin covered two of the walls, which were composed of a wood-like finish—?a warm brownish red. It was purely cosmetic, given that the entire ship was made of metal, and there was no need for wood anything on board. And I was gobsmacked to find shelves filled with actual paper-and-ink books. I’d beheld them only once in my lifetime, contained under glass at the Empire’s onboard library.

And then there was the captain, who sat in a plush armchair with a book in one hand, a glass of liquor in the other. The lights were set to their dimmest setting without being off. I recognized my fluffy cat friend napping on the rug beside him. As we stepped closer, I got a much better look at the captain now, my senses no longer buzzing with adrenaline, his face no longer drained of color. My initial assessment was correct—?he was young, with dark, unruly hair like Jessa’s and features no less striking. She would surely grow into a beauty. He, however, was severe-looking. Bridge of the nose too strong, lips quirked in judgment, thick eyebrows adorning pensive eyes.

“Hugo!” Jessa shrieked, rushing forward to be met in an enthusiastic hug.

“Jessa-Bear,” the captain greeted her warmly. “How have you been? I’ve missed you!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t go away so often and for so long,” Jessa replied with a pout.

“Hmm,” he hummed in response. “Is that you, Miss Ainsley?” He beckoned me forward and didn’t seem angry, so with careful steps, I moved out of the shadows. Would he fire me in front of Jessa? It would be unnecessarily bold. “Jessa, how do you like your new teacher?” he asked.

“I like her,” Jessa said. “We’re learning about the Romans, and reading Shakespeare, and she promised she’d show me some ship mechanics when I’m older!”

“Did she, then?” In the dim light, I saw a single eyebrow perk with interest. Or judgment. I couldn’t tell.

“It was just a thought, sir,” I said. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, I think it’s a great idea,” he cut me off. “Jessa could use some hands-on experience. When she’s older.” Captain Fairfax sat back in his chair, patting his knee, to which Jessa responded by eagerly settling herself on his lap. “Have a seat, Miss Ainsley,” he said, “while Jessa and I catch up. You and I can have a proper conversation when bedtime comes.”

“Can’t I stay up late? Since you just got back?” Jessa begged, but to no avail. The captain shook his head no.

“I’m exhausted. We’ll make a long day of it tomorrow instead.” It seemed to appease her, and she settled in to fill him in on the minutiae of the last two months he’d been away.

I sat in a chair made of a smooth material I’d never encountered, busying myself by taking in every inch of the room. First I studied the tableau on the tapestries, knights and unicorns and ladies in fine dresses represented on fading threads of red, gold, and green. Then I spent some time with what had to be a Fairfax family portrait—?there was a woman, a man, and two children, a boy and a girl. I saw echoes of Jessa and the captain in the structure of their jaws, the thick dark hair, the blue eyes with cutting expressions.

And finally, I took in the books. Their worn spines with faded lettering called to me, but it would have been rude to wander around the room, touching Captain Fairfax’s books, so I glued myself to the chair, settling my hands on my knees as a reminder to stay put.

Soon, Jessa and Captain Fairfax were all caught up, and at twenty-one hundred hours on the nose, Xiao appeared to ferry Jessa to bed. They left me sitting in shadows, dreading being alone in this odd slice of old Earth with the off-putting captain. As he took his seat again, he smiled, but on him, with his strong brow and shadows obscuring half his face, it appeared insincere. I waited for him to speak, but he only watched me, expression loaded yet unreadable.

“I’m doing very well,” he finally said. “Thanks for asking.” It was brusque yet playful.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I stammered, taken off-guard. I didn’t know what else to say, so I just . . . didn’t.

“I can tell by your accent that you’re from the Empire, Miss Ainsley. I’ve visited many times. Excellent tea. What was it like growing up there?”

“It was fine,” I replied.

“Merely ‘fine’?” the captain parroted back at me. “From your expression saying it, you’d think it was a torture ship. You should feel lucky it wasn’t the Stalwart. I’ve visited that ship as well, though I wouldn’t call anything about it excellent.”

He chuckled, clearly thinking himself clever. A spark of self-righteousness, masking wounded pride, straightened my spine and made my tongue sharp. “That’s where I’m from, actually,” I said. “I transferred there when I was eleven.”

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