Brightly Burning(27)

“No problem,” I said, offering a little salute. I was happy to be demoted, and made my way to the exit. Hugo had other ideas.

“Where are you going? Jessa needs a full crew to stop the enemy force.”

Blue eyes focused on me. Hugo wanted me to do something, and I found it easy to say yes.

I caught his eyes on me many times more as we took part in Jessa’s role-play, Hugo mouthing to me the terms I was supposed to use and, more than once, simply laughing at my ineptitude. Except when I played the part of ship engineer. I did brilliantly at that. When Jessa tired of make-believe, she led the charge back to the mid-deck, Hugo and I trailing behind her.

“There must have been a lot of crew before,” I said, indicating the doors as we passed them.

Hugo shrugged. “Way back when, yeah. We haven’t been at full capacity since before I was born. My parents moved the crew to the mid-deck at least ten years ago. Except Mari.” He indicated a door on our left, labeled with a brushed-metal placard that said FIRST OFFICER. It took me a second to place the name. Hanada. The rat enthusiast.

“But she’s not the First Officer,” I said.

“Xiao doesn’t mind her taking the old FO quarters. They’re the nicest down here, and closest to the medical bay.”

“Jessa, watch out for the—” I was about to say blood, but it was gone. Someone had cleaned up.

“Watch out for the what?” Hugo asked.

“Nothing.” It was strange. The blood gone, Jessa skipping in front of us, and Hugo by my side, I no longer felt ill at ease. It didn’t seem as dark or cold. Still, I was happy to return to mid-deck and proper lighting.

“Sorry to monopolize your morning,” Hugo said as we exited the elevator. “You can take the rest of the day for yourself. Except for this evening. Our reading appointment stands.”

I felt scolded, though Hugo’s tone held no malice. I had been considering ways to get out of our arrangement, and now I felt guilty.

“You weren’t going to come, were you?”

I thought of making excuses, but any decent one would be a lie, which I was loath to do. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it. The invitation.”

“Of course I meant it. Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“I just didn’t think the captain of a ship would have any real interest in spending time with a crew member.” Or someone from the Stalwart, for that matter, with such a basic name like Stella. I felt my cheeks burn at the memory of his slights.

Hugo stopped in his tracks, rounding on me with arms crossed over his chest. Jessa was oblivious and skipped on ahead. “You think I’m a total jerk,” Hugo stated, as opposed to asked, catching me off-guard.

Suddenly it was far too warm. “I just thought—”

“That I care more about status than people.”

I couldn’t lie, and I was sure my face said it all.

“I get it,” he said. “Especially after my abominable behavior last night. I’ll admit with the time I spend on other ships that follow more . . . traditional social conventions, I can lose sight of myself a bit. But on this ship, there’s only eight of us. If I refused to socialize with anyone ‘below my station,’ I’d only ever talk to Xiao and Poole, and most of the time they still treat me like I’m twelve.”

He started walking again, gesturing for me to fall into step beside him. I found myself confused. Unlike last night, today he was easy, playful. Nice.

“Do you like poker? We have a weekly game on Sundays. Everyone plays, though only Mari and Grace offer any real competition. But I suspect books and conversation are more up your alley.”

We stopped in front of my room, and he hit me with those blue eyes again.

“Will I see you tonight? It’s your choice. But know that my invitation is genuine.”

I nodded, unsure I could manage coherent speech. I was discovering I had a habit of always saying the wrong thing to the captain.


I arrived that evening at promptly half past eight, inhaling and releasing a deep breath to calm the butterflies that had taken up residence in my rib cage. As I smoothed a hand over my hair and checked that the dark gray dress I’d chosen was as spotless as it had been ten minutes ago, I realized I was acting like this was some kind of date. I scolded myself and knocked on the door to Hugo’s study. And when he barked “Enter” and I stepped through the door, it already felt completely routine.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Hugo said. “I was worried you’d skip out on me. Though if you had, I’d have hailed you on comms and talked your ear off until you relented.”

I frowned as I took my seat across from him, noting my book was ready for me, sitting on the table that bridged the space between our two chairs. Next to it was a glass of spirits. “Shouldn’t you want me to come willingly, and not because you pestered me until I gave in?”

His eyes held my gaze, winking curiosity. “Yes, of course. I was joking.”

Except I didn’t think he was. I got the sense Hugo was used to getting exactly what he wanted, all the time. I picked up my book and carefully opened to the first page. The type was faded in places but still readable. I made it no further than the second paragraph.

“Do you normally prefer nonfiction?”

My gaze flicked up to find Hugo sitting cross-legged in his oversized armchair, hands folded in his lap as he peered over at me. He looked like an overgrown boy. He hadn’t even touched his book.