Chapter 406:

Caspian

"What is this?" I ask, looking at the paper in front of me.

We are in her office—the Devil’s office, at the back of The Bunny. Jars line the shelves, filled with floating body parts and murky liquid. I try not to look at them. I swear that eye just blinked at me.

The Devil leans back in her chair. Boots on the desk. Hat tilted low.

"Well." She folds her arms. "I feel responsible."

I raise an eyebrow.

"So for the next five years, I will aid your trade transactions." She gestures at the paper. "I have connections. Your ships will be under the protection of the Devil."

I stare at her.

"Five years?"

"Five years."

"That is... generous."

"I have been feeling pretty generous of late." The Devil leans back in her chair, boots still on the desk. "And you know... being a parent. I am trying to be a parental figure worthy of pride."

She looks at me.

"I am sure you understand that."

I frown. "I do not have a child."

"I mean, I am sure you will understand that soon." The Devil’s voice is light.

My heart stutters.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugs. "Nothing."

"Now, let us talk further about this."

***

Smith

I am ashamed of myself.

For sleeping with a pirate.

Even after she put a knife to my throat. Even after I saw her threaten my prince. Even after I watched her enjoy the terror of the crew.

I should hate her.

I do hate her.

But it is like I am possessed.

She finds me in the darkness. She finds me in the corners of the ship where no one else goes. She finds me asleep and wakes me with her hands, her mouth, her laughter.

I cannot avoid her advances.

I have tried.

I have hidden in the hold. I have stayed close to the prince. I have prayed.

She always finds me.

"Smith."

I turn.

She is there. Leaning against the railing, her beads clicking softly, her dark eyes gleaming.

"Are you avoiding me, dear?" she says.

"Social cues suggest that when you notice that, you do not do the opposite by approaching the person responsible." I keep my voice flat.

"It rather defeats the purpose."

She walks toward me. Her hips sway. Her beads click. Her dark hair blows across her face.

"But I am a pirate, dear." She stops close enough to touch. "What would I know about social cues?"

She places a hand on my chest.

I remove her hand.

I turn around.

"Smith."

She wraps her arms around my waist. Her chest presses against my back. Her hand slides toward the front of my trousers.

I stop her.

"Stop this."

"How could I?" Her voice is warm against my ear. "When your reactions are so endearing."

"This is the last time." I grit my teeth.

I know it is not the last time.

She knows it is not the last time.

She laughs softly.

"Of course it is, dear."

She takes my hand.

Leads me below deck.

I follow.

I am ashamed.

But I follow.

***

Daphne

After meeting her, my inspiration is back in full force.

I look at my second canvas,the one I started only days ago and it is already taking shape. The colors are vibrant. The lines are confident. The mermaid in the painting looks alive.

Compared to the previous one, the one I worked on for years, this is... effortless.

Being around her makes it easier to bring to life.

"Have we done it before?" she asks.

She is sitting on the floor, cross-legged, her head resting on my lap. Her dark hair spills across my knee. Her eyes are closed.

"Done what?" I ask, continuing to paint.

"Locked lips."

I pause.

"Locked lips?"

"I saw the human with the tiny shells and beautiful skin in her hair do so." She gestures vaguely. "And the princess, too, with the human prince."

I look down at her, confused.

"Do you mean... kiss?"

"Is that what it is called?"

"If we are thinking about the same thing, then yes."

She opens her eyes and looks at me.

"So have we done it before?"

"We have." I set my brush down.

She tilts her head. Her dark hair slips over her shoulder.

"Did I like it?" she asks.

"What do you think?"

She is quiet for a moment.

"I think I did." Her voice is soft. "It is... blurry. Our memories."

She touches her temple.

"They are like fragments. Like shells scattered on the sand. I can see pieces, but I cannot see the whole."

I reach out and run my fingers through her hair and she slightly leans into my touch.

"What do you remember?"

"Happy." The word comes immediately.

"And... mating..." Her brow furrows. "And a... boat..."

She speaks as if she is picturing the moments. As if the fragments are rising from the depths of her memory like bubbles surfacing from the ocean floor.

I am surprised.

Vivienne and I did go on the yacht.

I am glad.

For once, I am not the only one holding onto our memories.

"What else?" I ask.

She closes her eyes.

"Warmth," she says. "Your hands. Your... laugh."

I swallow.

"You remember my laugh?"

"I remember liking it."

I pull her up onto my lap.

She does not pull away, it would would have torn me to pieces if she did. She’s so light, lighter than she’s ever been,I can feel her ribs through the simple dress.

I hug her waist.

And for the first time since I came into this world, I feel at home.

I hug her tighter than I mean to.

My arms lock around her. My face presses into her hair. My breath shudders out of me in a way I cannot control.

I missed her so much.

I missed her so much I forgot what it felt like to not miss her.

She hesitates, then slowly wraps her arms around me.