Page 33 of Virelai's Hoard
But…
She’d treated Riley fairly. Patch seemed to like her, too, and Riley had to make an effort not to take it personally when her rat seemed more interested in Calla than in Riley herself, even though now he was seeing Riley far less often than usual. Shehad to bribe him with pieces of bread so he would stay close to her during the daily visits.
It became harder to deny that she was intrigued. The captain’s distance, her care for the crew, the mystery surrounding her. Rileywantedto figure her out, in equal measure for her own interest and because she was simply just curious.
Whywas Calla isolating herself like this? Riley didn’t think it was her nature. She’d seen apathetic, disinterested people before, and Calla wasn’t one of them. Rarely, perhaps without even noticing it, Riley had caught her gazing out of the porthole in her cabin, lost in thought. Almost as if she were longing for something, something she couldn’t have. Riley wanted to find out what that something was.
And time was running out.
As to whether she was truly going to share her findings with Sable… Well, she hadn’t decided yet. The first mate had been open with her in a way Calla was unwilling to–or incapable of–and she was spending a lot of time and effort trying to help Riley help her.
But there was no doubt at all their current partnership was just that, them taking advantage of each other for their own ends.
Sable gave and wanted in return. Calla gave and asked for nothing.
Of the two, Calla was the one frightening her.
***
Riley knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Her eyebrows shot up. All the way up to her hairline when she fumbled with the door’s handle and it actually opened. Every visit before, Calla’s door had been locked. Every visit, Calla had escorted her in and out of her quarters, careful to lock the doorbefore and after Riley left. Today, Calla was simply sitting at her desk.
What changed? Was she letting her guard down?
Riley stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. Patch came to greet her, his tiny claws catching on her clothes as he climbed up and over her shoulder. He sniffed curiously at the plate in her hand and then turned his nose at it, offended.
This was strange, too. Riley was always the one taking him in and out of his cage, but this time it seemed Calla hadn’t bothered to lock him up in the morning. Riley looked at the bed–pristine, but that part wasn’t strange–and wondered whether the captain had slept at all.
Faking a familiarity she didn’t feel, Riley also did something she’d never done before. She approached Calla at her desk, carefully shifted a few of the maps–she didn’t miss Calla tensing up from the corner of her eyes–to make an empty space, and set the plate down.
“I haven’t seen you around at mealtime for days now,” she said sheepishly. “Pip was adamant you’d like these, so… here.”
Calla’s expression was even as she paused her scribbling to look at her. Then, calmly, she put her quill back in the inkpot and gingerly took the cover off the plate.
When Riley had gone to Boarley to request something off the menu, she’d half expected him to shoo her offanddeny her dinner rations. Instead, with a curious glint in his eye, he’d signed for her to sit down and spent half a bell putting together a seaweed and bean mash, spread on freshly toasted slices of bread. Riley’s mouth had watered watching him, but the plate made it to Calla’s desk untouched. She could do with skipping a meal. She’d be getting breakfast in the morning. Back on the streets, she’d never had that certainty.
The corner of Calla’s lips twitched in amusement as she saw the food. “If I knew you had enough time to spare to notice myeating habits, I would’ve told Gadrielle to go harder on you.” She made for Riley to sit.
Riley sat on the chair in front of the desk, trying not to look at the food in hopes that her stomach wouldn’t betray her now and growl. Because that would be just mortifying. She looked at the maps instead, but she could barely parse writing that was facing her. Upside down, the words were illegible scribbles.
Something different, then. Riley grinned at Calla, casually leaning back in her chair. “Do you always threaten people who are just being nice to you?”
“People who are being nice usually expect something in return. Some light threats keep the requests reasonable,” Calla said, a playful quirk to her eyebrows as she gingerly picked up one slice. Then she nudged the plate towards her. “Eat.”
Riley’s eyes snapped to Calla’s, startled. Had she been that obvious? The piercing blue eyes that met hers were knowing, uncomfortable in their intensity. Her skin prickled at the sudden attention, and she wasn’t sure what to do with it after being completely ignored for so many days.
“I already ate,” she lied, fighting not to shift in her seat.
Calla’s head tilted at that. As if she knew. “Then you’ll eat again. I can’t finish this by myself.”
Riley eyed the plate with the three left-over slices. Was that a lie? It was an abundant portion, sure, but-
“Do I need to threaten you again?” Calla smirked at her, and Riley’s mouth went dry at the sight.
Sometimes she forgot just how beautiful her captain was, usually far too concerned with everything else to pay attention to that small detail. But now, with them sitting across from each other, alone, talking, Riley couldn’t help but notice. Calla was striking, rather than soft–sharp cheekbones, the defined curve of her jaw, the way the lamplight exaggerated every angle and shadow. It was a face built for drawing the eye. Her lips, too,weren’t delicate, but they looked soft. Riley bit into the food, and wondered if they truly were. Soft. Not even the burst of flavor distracted her from the flesh and bone mystery sitting across from her. Calm. Distant. Kind. Imposing. Far too observant. Sharp. A confusing amalgam of qualities that shouldn’t belong to only one person, and yet did. Calla ate with careful precision, almost absentmindedly graceful, as if movement was something she never had to think about.
