Siren

Siren - Chapter 25

Mallach awoke the next morning, and swore his whole body was rebelling against him. Everything was sore, and he was so parched for water he felt he had spent a month in the desert.

Clara was kneeling beside the bed, her head resting on his stomach. He tried to get up and that's when he realized he was restrained.

“What the bloody hell?” He had intended to yell, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. He moved his leg until Clara awoke.

“Oh,” she said softly, “you're up. Let me fetch you some water...” Her eyes were red and he could tell shed had little sleep. And she was trembling.

“What's wrong, my sweet?”

“You were drunk,” she said weakly, “and tried to attack Raven. You called me a disgusting whore and told me you no longer wished to be associated with me.”

All was quiet as Clara rose to get water for him. While she was gone he tried to remember what exactly had happened. Last night was all a blur. And then it came back to him suddenly.

Raven had been with Clara, and he had sworn that they were being intimate. When Clara returned from the kitchen with some cool water and iced sherbet, she had most certainly not flirted with the cook to get it, Mallach had somehow escaped his restraints and was sitting up.

“Come here,” he said softly, “thank you for the water. And even iced sherbet. I honestly don't deserve you.”

She said nothing, but took a bit of the sherbet and devoured it quickly. The water was soothing, thought Mallach, but the iced sherbet divine.

“Clara,” he started, but she wouldn't hear of it. She was tired of apologies and he could tell.

“There was no excuse for what you said to me last night.”

“You're right—” he interjected quickly.

“And I am very cross with you.”

“You have every right to be—”

“But that doesn't mean I can stop loving you.”

“I deserve the tongue lash—wait, what? What did you say?”

“I said I love you.” He finished the iced sherbet quickly and threw the ropes on the floor.

“Do you truly wish to say you'll risk being devastated if the curse is broken and I don't really love you?”

“Yes.” She said exhaustedly. “I'm tired of being frightened of what is happening between us. Your father can rot in the six pits of hell as Pontus would say. And fiat, too.”

As painful as it was he roared with laughter. If it was the curse, he would learn to love her.

“I'm going to bathe,” he said, “I feel I need it. I smell horridly, like I slept in a vat of ale.”

“I too need a bath.” She said, looking tired

“Shall we?” He grinned.

“No, I have a different bathe in mind.”

Leaving him to his own devices, Clara quietly made her way down the hall.

When she came above deck it was snowing softly. The winds had died down considerably and Pontus was not happy.

“Well still get there in time but it will be close.” She heard him telling a crewman.

Ignoring everyone, she was determined to have her day at sea. Finding the crate she had stood on the night before, she pushed it against the side of the deck and climbed up. Pontus was far too busy watching the dropping sails to notice, but Reginald, the first mate saw just fine.