Brightly Burning(54)

“Don’t worry about that. Go grab your dinner, and I expect you at the poker table promptly at eight.”

And that was how I ended up spending my last evening on the Rochester for who knew how long engaged in a most insidious game of poker.


I was a fish among the sharks. They grinned; their teeth glinted in the light, eyes narrowed to knowing slits. I’d watched Bianca, Braxton, and Captain Ingram play from afar many times before, but sitting under the halo of light that illuminated the table, shadows cast in sharp relief across faces that clearly wished my defeat, it was a wholly other experience. I was flanked on either side by Braxton and Captain Ingram, leaving Hugo and Bianca facing me like an elegant couple with a guest at their table.

But I played the part of a shark as well. Poker was all about keeping one’s cool, not letting on how good or bad your hand was, maintaining composure. I was an old hand at that. What I hadn’t quite mastered was the art of manipulation, of acting to fool my opponents, which both Bianca and Hugo were skilled at. For one thing, I was certain that Hugo was only pretending to be drunk for once. There was a keenness behind his eyes that I recognized. Hugo was sharp. Hugo was paying attention.

Bianca was playing the part of the coquette and simpleton, giggling at every half-clever thing the men at the table said, calling her sister, Lucy, over to ask for her help in analyzing her cards. I didn’t understand her strategy except perhaps to look vulnerable and cute for Hugo, given everyone at the table knew how skilled she was at the game. She didn’t need Lucy’s help any more than I did.

Captain Ingram was, in fact, not very good at poker at all. He could not control his facial expressions when dealt a hand, and he chewed on his lip when he bluffed, making him rather easy to beat, which I did in the first round. Bianca took the second, not at all graciously. She sent me a gloating smirk across the table as Hugo insisted we play again and that I must participate, try to win back my title. I withered a bit in my chair. Then I slapped away Braxton’s hand from its attempt to negotiate my thigh.

I approached the next game like a call to battle. I sat up straight, rolled my shoulders and neck, cracked my knuckles. When I looked at my cards, my face remained impassive. They were decent, but not great. Still, I placed my bet—?it was Hugo’s money and favors, after all. Another element of the game that made me dangerous to my opponents. I had nothing to lose.

And then Hugo went and ruined everything. “What do you say we up the stakes so this game is a bit more personal?”

Bianca lit up. “What did you have in mind? Strip poker?”

“With your father and brother playing with us?” Hugo laughed. “Not exactly. I was thinking more along the lines of putting personal favors on the line.” He examined his cards with a sly smile, then looked at each of us in turn. “For instance, I wager a joyride in my private transport.”

Joyride in private transport appeared on the tab table screen under the column of Hugo’s wagers, setting it in stone. You had to be very careful with what you said at a poker table—?everything was registered, and there was no backing out of bets once uttered.

“Or you could wager just your private transport,” Captain Ingram said, but Hugo shook his head vehemently.

“Small stuff only. Things those of us at this table can do for the others.” Hugo discarded two of his cards, picking up two from the deck.

“Well, then, I fold,” Captain Ingram said in a huff, throwing down his cards. “There’s no trifle anyone at this table could wager that I’d have interest in.”

Or he had a crappy hand, more like. Down to just the four of us with Hugo’s new wager literally on the table, I found it a challenge to maintain my outwardly confident demeanor. I had no clue what so-called personal stake I could wager, but Bianca was quick to come up with something.

“I wager a song. If I lose, the winner can ask me to sing anything, and I’ll do it.” She swapped out three cards—?bad hand?

I noticed Braxton roll his eyes when he thought his sister wasn’t looking. Then it was his turn to wager or fold. He shrugged. “I’ll wager a back massage.” He took just one card, but I could tell from his microscopic flinch it wasn’t a good one.

If ever there was a disincentive to win a game, a massage from Braxton was it. But I kept my face passive as I tossed my own wager into the ring—?a portrait of the winner. I drew two cards, forcing myself not to react—?I wanted to smile, since I was on my way to a straight flush if luck kept going my way.

“Now, for this round, a bit of a twist,” Hugo said. “I will choose what each of you must lay on the line to raise.”

“That’s not fair, Hugo!” Bianca smacked him lightly on the arm. “We’re hardly playing poker anymore at that point.”

“My ship; my rules.” He took a swig from the cup I was sure didn’t contain a drop of liquor. “I’ll start with you, Bianca, since we’re throwing out the conventions of poker, as is. My wager for you is your quarters aboard this ship. If you lose, the winner gets your room.”

I couldn’t help it; my eyes went wide at that, and Bianca made no effort to maintain her cutesy persona. Fire nearly blew out of her ears.

“That is absurd!”

“Not if you have a good hand. Wager it if you’re sure you’ll win.”

Bianca’s fine cheeks burned red with frustration, but she pressed her mouth into a firm line and swapped out another two cards. She was in. I noticed the tab didn’t register the bet, and so did Hugo. So he made Bianca repeat it out loud. It was a beautiful thing to hear her say, “I will give up my room.”