A Hidden Queen

Chapter 95

Silver eyes flutter open as the early morning sun pours in from the bay windows. The darkly tanned face scrunches upwards, the mouth becoming increasingly dry. A pitiful groan leaves the tall man as he buries his face deeper into the pillow. His body relaxes further, his fogged mind beginning to clear. Charlie sighs heavily, rolling over onto his back as his mind claws its way to consciousness.

His eyes focus on the beams above his head. They felt dry, crusted and puffy with bags. He would have had a better night's sleep with a continual cannon fire taking place than he did on the quiet night. His mind swirled, constant turning all night, leading the man to be awake more often than asleep.

He peeks over at Josephine with the bed shifting under her weight. The tanned bare skin glows effortlessly in the early morning rays. The red hair falling off her shoulders and spreading onto the cream-colored bedding. Her face was relaxed, her breathing coming in even strokes, well rested from the night. The dark brows furrowed in disgust as she slept peacefully, unaware of the plight that plagued him all night long.

Charlie takes several deep breaths, letting go of his irritation. It was not her fault that his mind swirled with stress that she was unaware of. He props himself onto his elbows, gently brushing the long red hair away from her face. He runs his hand down her back, kissing her temple. The tender moment causes her to stir slightly before melting further into the bed with a most contented sigh.

The scowling features become crescent fallen as he slips out of bed, sliding his pants over his hips. Charlie scratches at the back of his head, making his way over to the water basin. He stares at the lukewarm water still swirling in the deep bowl. His reflection was repulsive. His hair was sticking up in random places, his eyes dark and dull from the lack of sleep. The constant scowling created lines around his eyes and mouth that gave him an older appearance.

"A pitiful sight you are Austin." He mutters to himself, slapping his face with the water.

Today was the day. The exciting embarkment of his and Josephine's own adventures on The Cyclone. However, the excitement simply wasn't there. Gibbons and Albert had been kind enough to scrooge Morga for supplies and able-body crewman. And he had trusted the two older men's judgement, but he had to admit that the weariness of it lingered. And the closer they got to fixing The Cyclone, the more his own uncertainties gnawed at him.

Joe sang his praises, having unwavering confidence in his ability to captain. But the responsibility weighed heavier on him than others could imagine. These were men that served under Clinton Carter. They would expect more from him than he could possibly give and their lives would be placed carelessly in his hands. What if he could not fulfill his role as captain? Or worse yet, what if he couldn't fill Clinton's shoes as they desire and they become dissatisfied with the results? He could be facing a full mutiny over the fact that he was not Clinton Carter.

A heavy sighs forces past his lips as he runs his hand through his mused hair. He leans his weight onto the stand, glancing at the room. He was comfortable enough on the ship, as the couple had been living on her while getting her seaworthy once more. And Joe had been nothing but efficient in making the stateroom their own. Minus a few books and clothes, barely a trace of the past littered the spacious quarters. Charlie could not be more grateful for her efforts. He had already felt the need to deal with the notion of living up to Carter's big feet, he did not wish to live within his belongings as well.

The frustration shakes his head. He pushes himself away, turning his mind to the task of finding his clean shirt from the night before. He scrouged the desk area, remembering that he had hastily thrown it upon the back of the chair before crawling into bed. And yet the grey-blue shirt was not there. Charlie furrows his brows deeply, his agitation growing as he searches, dislocating several other items, for this one shirt.