The Archman

Chapter 21 - A Careful Tending

A spray of sea water mists the air as Kinsley's battleship cuts across the restless ocean waves. The crew of officers move about pedantically, as they've set their course and have yet to receive any further orders.

On the upper deck, Kinsley is looking out past the stern of the ship. He has his hands on the wooden banister, his elbows locked firmly, his head slouched over. It is a posture that appears to have quickly become his default ever since their abrupt departure a few days ago.

A few higher-ranking officers pace about the upper deck, caught in an unfamiliar state of ambiguity from the lack of authority. They've managed to keep things running effectively enough without his command, but they do so with chronic hesitancy.

"Should we..." One of the members of the crew turns to a fellow officer, both of whom are looking across the upper deck towards Kinsley. The fellow officer shrugs silently.

Though Kinsley is standing just a few feet from them, he seems almost completely absent. He might as well be a statue they brought along for aesthetic purposes. The illusion is quickly broken, however, as Kinsley brings a closed fist down onto the banister, drawing the attention of everyone on the upper deck. There is a blistering frown across his brow, tensing every single muscle in his face with a seething contortion. It looks as though he is about to say something, but he remains completely quiet.

He suddenly turns around, causing the unwitting spectators around him to quickly avert their gaze and go back to whatever they are doing to keep themselves looking busy.

"Get me ink and paper." Kinsley walks towards the first mate, possessed by a fresh sense of obstinacy.

"Ah, yes sir!" The first mate gives a brief salute and rushes down the stairs of the upper deck.

Ordinarily he would delegate such a menial task to a deckhand, but he wanted to make sure this duty was done to perfection.

Kinsley stands beside the officer at the steering wheel, neither of them looking at one another.

"How's our course been?" Kinsley asks gruffly.

"Excellent, no delays thus far." The officer is relieved that he has good news to report.

Kinsley doesn't acknowledge the officer's response, simply extracting the information from his words and discarding the rest of the unnecessary noise. He brings a hand to his chin, already starting to compose the letter he plans to write in his head.

The silent tension sets back in, all the officers waiting on pins and needles for Kinsley's next unpredictable action. It was going to be a long trip back.

~

The dim lamplight of the Archman's bedroom wards off the natural cloistering darkness of the space, providing just enough light to illuminate the pages of the book Eira has in her lap.

She was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, the blankets pulled up to her waist. Usually she would have her legs bent to rest whatever reading material she had against her thighs, but the position was much too uncomfortable in her current state.

She adjusts the collar around her neck slightly, as she typically does every hour or so, to keep it from chafing the same portion of skin all the time.

There is a light knocking at the door, pulling Eira's attention up from the thick hardcover book towards the closed door.

"Come in." She speaks up, loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. The words felt somewhat unnatural coming from her mouth. It has been a while since she's had to exercise common courtesy, especially since she never expected to employ it in the Archman's company.