Page 17 of Murgul
It is a pirate’s life for me.
Chapter Fourteen
GWENDOLYN
Murgul is hidingsomething from me. He’s been oddly quiet since he joined me in our bedroom after leaving his post at the helm. Watching him pace back and forth across the room from where I’m sitting at the table, I wait for him to tell me what he is thinking. Since he revealed the ability to speak mind to mind, our time in this room has been filled with conversation as we get to know each other. Neither of us has delved into heavy topics of conversation, almost by unspoken agreement.
Most of what we’ve discussed pertains to information I need to learn to survive my new life. We both decided it was more important for me to have basic knowledge first, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t shared anything about one another. I know a lot about my mate, but it’s all surface information, nothing of true substance, and I think it’s time we shifted our relationship to the next level. I’ve made it clear in our many chats that open, honest communication is an integral part of human relationships, so I know that he will share when he’s ready.
Looking around the room, I give myself a mental pat on the back. When Murgul first carried me in here, the room was devoid of life or personality. It looked more like a hotel roomthan a small apartment where someone has lived for several years. Apparently, bachelors are universal. It’s a somewhat endearing concept that makes these males, including Murgul, more relatable.
I’ve finally stopped looking at the walls for a clock of some sort. It’s hard to keep track of time on a spaceship, since I’m used to tracking time by the rising and falling of the sun in a twenty-four-hour period. But, it’s a whole hell of a lot better than being stuck in a cage in persistent darkness, waiting for the next horror to come. Shaking myself, I force myself to banish the negative thoughts and refocus on my perusal of Murgul’s room. Well… that doesn’t really sound right anymore. It’sourroom now.
The low couch across the room now boasts several soft, colorful blankets—an open invitation to linger and get comfortable, unlike the austere setup it had before. I even figured out how to attach magnets to a few decorative odds and ends to break up the once-barren walls. The space feels far less impersonal now, and I have to admit, I quite like the effect. I may not be particularly skilled at arts and crafts, but something is better than nothing—and hey, an A for effort, right?
Our bed mirrors the couch in its transformation—it now looks warm and inviting, no longer the cold, impersonal surface it once was. What truly broke my heart for Murgul was realizing that his bed hadn’t even had a pillow or anything soft to cover himself with. From what I’ve gathered in our conversations, kindness isn’t something he’s been shown often. I know his brothers love him, but he still keeps them at a distance, for reasons I don’t yet understand.
The night he came “home” and noticed what I’d done, something in him shifted. His eyes softened more than I’d ever seen, and he crossed the room slowly, almost reverently, to touch the pillow—as if he couldn’t quite believe it was meant for him.
My stomach gurgles, and Murgul’s head snaps around the second he hears it, dismay combined with guilt etched into his scarred, austere face.
“I am sorry, little one. It is past time for the end-of-rotation meal. I have neglected your care. Give me a tic, and I will go to the dining hall to get us both something to eat. We will… talk when I return. If this is acceptable to you?”
Before I can utter any sort of response, he spins on his clawed foot and stalks out the door, tail twitching in irritation behind him. Murgul doesn’t have very manytells, but his tail is a good gauge of his mood, and right now he’s frustrated and deeply annoyed with himself. Caring for me is not something he takes lightly, considering how deeply he believes that I am a gift from his gods. Sighing, I uncurl myself from the giant chair and hop down, thankful I found a sort of cushion to put on it since it’s made of metal, and made my butt fall asleep if I sat in it for too long.
Walking over to the closet, I pull out a pretty, yet cozy nightgown before moving over to the bathroom. I might as well take a shower before Murgul gets back. That way, we can talk and eat without any interruptions. Without breaking stride, I enter the bathroom since the door is motion-activated, and drop my clothes on the small area I claimed as my vanity before disrobing and stepping into the shower stall.
Pressing the buttons for my preferred pressure and temperature settings, I relish the hot water when it starts streaming over me. I don’t linger since Murgul won’t take very long to grab supper. Pushing the soap button, I scrub theday from my body before quickly washing my hair. After I’ve thoroughly rinsed myself, I cut the water off and turn the air dryer on. I have to admit, blow-drying yourself is a whole lot better than using towels.
Stepping out of the shower stall, I have to giggle at how wild my hair looks in the mirror on the opposite wall. Just because the air dryer is more convenient, it does still have some drawbacks. My mane of hair isn’t super appreciative of the process, but Bikar—my favorite pseudo-brother-in-law—showed me several products his species uses to keep their thick manes of hair healthy. Well, the ones that have hair, that is. Slavic and Ruarc are bald, but I don’t think that’s the norm for their species. Thankfully, there was plenty of it, so I selected a dainty, fragranced one for myself and a muskier one for Murgul. His hair was in dire need of some TLC, and as a former supermodel, I’m well-versed in self-care as well as beauty routines.
Pouring a dime-sized amount of oil in my hands, I rub them together before running it through my hair, watching the frizz disappear as the oil goes to work. Seconds later, it’s lying better, with more body and shape to it than any stylist ever accomplished back on Earth. Giggling, I shake my head at the irony and grab my nightgown. Pulling it over my head, I slip my hair out of the neckline and leave the bathroom to find Murgul setting two plates piled high with food on our table. Smiling at him, I pad over to him with an appreciative smile. “This all looks delicious, but I doubt I can eat as much as you’ve brought me.”
A slight smile pulls at his mouth, looking at me with soft eyes filled with warmth.
“You are still far too thin, bright one. The extra intake will assist you in regaining a healthy weight. It makes myhearts happy to see that your health is improving every rotation.”
“I don’t know that I have ever been a healthy weight before. Back on Earth, I was required to maintain a severe diet to keep the desired body image and weight for my profession as a model. That’s why I was so emaciated when your brothers found me. I didn’t really have any weight to lose, and those snake bastards didn’t really feed us… and since the bugs were going to use us for food, they wasted nothing on us.”
My words end on a solemn note that makes Murgul frown with concern.
“You have used this term, ‘model,’ many times before during our talks. Would you fully explain what it means to me?”
A small, melancholy smile forms as I watch him use his tail to pull my chair out, before helping me back up into the overlarge piece of furniture. “Yes, I suppose it’s time for me to explain some things to you. It’s not a story I want to repeat, so if you don’t mind, please wait until I’m done to ask me questions. Let’s eat first and then I’ll tell you how I came to be on that Velgriddix ship.”
Nodding his agreement, we both dig into our meal while a blanket of silence envelopes us. Thankfully, it’s not one filled with tension like it was earlier, before Murgul went to the dining hall. Pushing the plate away from me, I lean back in my seat, rubbing my stomach in satisfaction. It’s still a novelty for me to feel full. “I don’t think I can eat another bite. I’m so full, I’malmost miserable, but it was that good. I like that you bring me at least one or two new dishes to try each evening. So far, I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve brought me.”
Sliding my half-finished plate across the table, I gesture to the remaining food. “You might as well finish the rest of this. I don’t like wasting food, and I know you need far more calories than I do.”
His ears pin flat against his head in discomfort, still unused to anyone caring for him and openly expressing concern for his well-being, before he scrapes my leftovers onto his plate and starts eating again. It only takes him a few moments to polish off the rest of his food. Murgul places his utensils on the plate and pushes it to the side before leaning back against his chair, settling in to listen. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself as I start the sad story of my life within a gilded cage of luxury.
Chapter Fifteen
MURGUL
She smells of sadness. What did you do to our mate, fool?
I have done nothing! She is preparing to tell me how she came to be on the Velgriddix ship and her past. Surely you have noticed that neither of us has really delved into our history these last rotations.