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" the sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown "

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" the sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown "

" the sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown "

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

 

MEGARA'S GAZE WAS FIRMLY FIXED ON THE FIGURE BEFORE HER, the scrub brush in her hand stilled and dripping with briny seawater. It had been several days since they embarked upon the Titan's Daughter, and increasingly, she felt the weight of a particular pair of eyes tracing her every move. It was a strange, unsettling feeling, prompting her to mirror the attention with her own watchful eyes. Only two days prior, she had learned that the man who had forcefully saved her from a perilous lean over the ship's railing was of Dornish descent—a knight, as divulged by Denyo, the captain's younger son.

Aboard the vessel, camaraderie among the men often descended into boisterous drinking sessions. Their laughter would echo across the deck, swelling into raucous tales and eventually spiraling into brawls, fueled by ale and the salt-sea air. Megara, however, typically sequestered herself below deck, her company being the worn pages of her Valyrian dictionary. The thin wooden planks did little to muffle the uproar above, letting the raucous peals of laughter and occasional shouts invade her study.

Her knowledge of Dorne and its people was scant, gleaned only from snippets of overheard conversations in Mole's Town. The men of her hometown bore a harsh disdain for the Dornish, often punctuating their scorn with a spiteful spit upon the dusty ground. Tales of the Dornish's fiery temperaments and unabashed indulgences were common fodder for gossip, sparking both derision and a peculiar envy among the women of the local brothel.

Now, as Megara's eyes lingered on the broad back of the elder Dornish knight, Myles Manwoody, a sudden pinch on her arm jolted her from her thoughts. She turned, slightly irritated, to see Denyo staring at her with wide, anxious eyes. His gaze darted fearfully between her and his father, who was now observing them from across the deck with a stern frown.

Biting her cheek in frustration, Megara resumed her scrubbing, pushing forward on her knees. She found little joy in the labor, but Denyo seemed grateful for the help. As the ship's boy, he was tasked with maintaining the cleanliness of the deck, serving the passengers, and fulfilling numerous other errands for his father—the ship's captain. These were duties once held by his elder brother, Yorko, who, having come of age, had since been assigned more significant responsibilities aboard the ship. However, Denyo, who possessed a keener mind for numbers, often assisted Yorko with his tasks to ensure their father remained pleased—a fact Denyo had shared with a mix of pride and trepidation during one of their joint cleaning sessions.

šš‹šŽšŽšƒššŽš”ššƒ || įµįµƒįµįµ‰ įµ’į¶  įµ—Ź°Ź³įµ’āæįµ‰Ė¢Where stories live. Discover now