SHADOW

The Ripped Dress

It was so hot in the cabin and Sha woke up feeling dizzy. The moon was streaming through the small cabin windows and there was no Sonya in the cabin and the Count was absent. She looked in the window—the deck was empty and silent. The moon was full and covered the waves with silver, so magical. The sky was clear like no other evening. It was their last evening on the boat and Sha decided it was safe enough to go out to admire the scene, to enjoy the cool wind on her skin.

It was cooler than she expected. Goosebumps covered her skin when she stepped out of the cabin door, and she came back looking for a wool shawl to bundle herself better.

Even though she felt lazy to go back, she knew it would be worse to stay there and tremble with chattering teeth and not enjoy herself. She would not enjoy herself in the cold; she never enjoyed herself in the cold. She loved warmth and summer.

Now it is much better, decided Sha, and finally stepped out with confidence.

Her ankles still trembled. Her curtain of black hair was blown by the breeze into her face, and she spit out hair, trying to pull it out of her eyes and face.

I must look like a banshee now with this long hair blown in all directions, she giggled to herself.

And where is Sonya for God's sake? It is so late. It is not safe to wander alone on a boat full of sailors.

She leaned against the railing, watching the moon. It was a sight to behold. Never in her life had she seen stars so bright, so clear. It was always the lights of the city or the village, never so crisp and beautiful like here. Even at her grandmother's farm it was not like this.

She watched in awe how the sky twinkled, how small sparkling dots flickered in the sky, and multiple shooting stars popped in all directions. She tried to watch them all, twirling around and making herself dizzy.

Where was Sonya? How could she miss this?

Maybe she was watching it from the other side of the ship, thought Sha, and walked along the deck.

The ship was big, with loads of cargo. Some of it was anchored on the deck along with smaller rescue boats. It was a bit creepy to navigate between them this late; some threw out sinister shadows.

Sha passed along the central meal hall, and happy music seeped through the windows and doors with warm light. She peered inside and could see five or six sailors, the captain, and Count Ambrosio drinking, and one sailor was playing a violin, all merry and cheerful.

The Count was cheerful also, his beautiful face gleaming, his black hair disheveled, and the shirt on his strong arms rolled up. Now she could see the scars on them; he was not wearing gloves and he was in his element, laughing and joking with the captain. His eyes gleamed with mischief.

Sha could not believe that this man was the same man she knew—the brooding and always serious Count Ambrosio, the scheming silent man enveloped in mystery.

His skin was not as pale as before; he was a bit sun-kissed on his cheeks. She had numerous speculations about him, even the thought that he might be a vampire at some point.

Well, that was ridiculous. Were not vampires creatures that drank blood and hid away from the sun? He was definitely not hiding from the sun.

Suddenly their eyes met, and she blushed in horror, ducking away from the window. Her heart beating a mile per hour. He definitely caught her staring.

On tiptoes she hurried away, hiding between huge cargo wooden crates, walking as far away as she could from the crew cabin.

He would definitely not follow her, would he?