Author's Preface
Year 765 Manuk Soulstone
Captain Connor will never have imagined allowing someone to sleep in his quarters for the night. Neither of the closest of his crew ever stake claim to his living abode. They all gave him the space just for him to use for himself, even though he often rests on the couch instead of the mattress. His bed is left untouched for a considerable amount of time; it no longer held his stench from the last time he even slept on it.
That all ends on one fateful evening. An inebriated Krax female barges into his room unannounced, spouts nonsense the whole time and ignores his constant commands to leave his room. She wobbles straight to his untouched bed and claim it like it belongs to her. There is absolutely nothing he can have done, nothing that won’t involve anyone else.
Her drunkenness over just two measly meads meant that she is more vulnerable to suggestions. Although such horrid practices aren’t tolerated on his ship, it is easier to control attempts of sexual harassment when there are no other women on his ship. Now they have one and she is drunk off her mind.
With his moral compass in question, he had to let her rest in his quarters. Her drunken slurs on the rumors about the nonexistent intimate relationship between them are already compartmentalized in his mind thanks to Gash. There is nothing about the rumors that can in fact ever offend the captain since none of them are true. He finds it weird that she is this upset about it, not willing to learn her side of the perspective. It isn’t like neither of them had any reason to be ashamed of. A part of him still aches to know who even started the rumor in the first place. As a captain of this ship, if any of his crew is trying to undermine him with weak, baseless rumors such as this one, it is just as dangerous as someone who stabs him in the back.
His concerns are only focus on the fact there are rumors that involves him at all and not the subject of the rumors. This woman will easily survive such a travesty. While a captain needs to be careful. He mulls over this with deep sleeplessness on his couch, at first having the misconception that the rumor is the reason for his wakefulness. Instead, his wakefulness is the fault of the very same woman who conquers his bed.
What she said about his eyes unsettles him. It broke his solid front, having to resort to keeping his expression away just to make sure she didn’t notice. Notice his fortitude crumbling. Any endearing compliment towards his features is like searing fire prods on his skin, it reminds him where his features originate from.
The thoughts never left him, so he turns to confront her, only to see that she is fast asleep. Her ’ peaceful ’ rest is anything but that. She tossed around a lot to the point that the blanket barely covers her body anymore. The way she deeply slumbers, splaying her limbs around carelessly with one arm slacken above her head while the other hung off the edge of the bed confuses the captain. The blanket tangles up between her legs, her odd posture and deep slumber all made him both envious and slightly intrigued. He forgets his first identity crisis from her brazen comment, more amazed by her level of skill in quick sleep.
How the Anukrin hell can she sleep so quickly!?
Connor, beyond any sound of logic, got up from his couch and stealthily close in next to the bed to study her more. This woman is still flighty, so he expects it to be no different while she sleeps. However, she didn’t move a single inch even as the floorboard creaks with his weight. She is out cold.
Such a strange woman. Seeing her in a state of snoozing disarray got him to forget about his cursed memories. It grounds him, at least for tonight. He didn’t realize it, but for that moment, he felt grateful for her accidental association. The captain did something he never expects to do in his lifetime. He pulls the blanket away from her twisted limbs, draping it over her body to keep her covered. She made a sound, a sign that shows she will wake, so he froze.
Instead, she sinks further underneath the covers, even deeper asleep. A new sound escapes from the rise and fall of her banded chest: a light snore.
This…crazy woman. Connor shakes his head, pivoting away once he is satisfied that she covered and in comfort. These things became important for him somewhere in those meager breathes. He got to see her kindness over the course of a few days, and it’s killing his suspicions towards her and should concern him for being so weak to it. Not tonight, he won’t allow it. Instead, he stretches out on his couch again to rest his mind finally.
The morning that follows had him jolt awake; Rhea is the cause of his sudden disturbance with her panic rummaging. She freaks out, cussing herself in Krax. All her pacing to make sure she had all her things before her ’ grand escape’ distracts the woman. She must be dealing with such a hangover that it made her senses dull, and she had not noticed the vigilant captain rising from the couch. The captain clears his throat to gather her attention, rubbing the strain on the back of his neck, “Rhea…”
“ WAISHEK !?” Rhea winces, stumbling from her feet and fell right on top of the bed. This woman got so spooked that she grabs a pillow and wields it like a pistol. “C-Co-Captain Mister!? I-“
Connor eyes the pillow in her grasp to her shaking grip and then the flushing of her features. He nearly lost his fortitude again because of the warming of his chest.
Focus
“Just Captain. ” Shifting his mentality to that of a captain meant there is no room to smile. This man slid off the couch and advance towards the ′ cowering ’ female. It looks like she didn’t register in her head that she had overstayed her welcome. So, he had to show it by ripping the pillow out of her grasp and tossing it on his couch.
“Get to cleaning, Rhea.” His tone is as fierce as ever, he can see it works since her brows ticks up at the tone. There is a flash of rebellious spark in those silver eyes, it even causes her irises to glitter brilliantly like no gem he ever tactfully thieved. For the briefest of weakness, due to his nature to take shiny things without question, he wonders what other methods he can try to make those eyes glamour. Certainly, those theories aren’t as innocent as he hopes, scaring himself straight again.
Thankfully, she isn’t privy to keep going with this staring contest. “Aye…”
The woman slides off his bed, avoiding him entirely as she finds the door of his quarters. It almost strains him to experience her cold shoulder, thinking she is never capable of being this way to anyone. But this is what he wants, right? There is no more room for him to let another person take residence. His mental mansion is impenetrable for as long as he wills it, his walls only decorated to what stays important to him. She proves his certainty wrong, stopping right at the door for a reason he can’t understand until her voice fills the silence. “I am sorry for whatever I did...but thank you for your patience anyway….”
Rhea didn’t wait for his reaction or response; she didn’t look back to notice the flex of shock that rose from the warmth of his chest. She is gone and he is left mystified again with this unexplained fervor that crowds over him and shook the mental walls of his mansion.
This is dangerous… Connor’s thought intrudes his psyche, finding a seat back at his desk and trying to distract himself with the maps there. What he really ends up doing is obsessing over Rhea and the mysteries she teases him with every time they are together. He hadn’t forgotten about that mysterious burnt corpse from the Death Twisters manor; this restarts his suspicions that he turned off to sleep last night. These feelings are merely fabrication by a man too curious for his own good, his obsession over her simply fueled by his nature to overanalyze secrets and unearth buried treasure. That is the only justification for his many near faults to his fortitude while she is in his company. That is the truth, a truth he will keep repeating to himself until the end of his life or when Rhea chooses to leave from this lifestyle.