Page 29 of The Enchanted Isles #1

29

L eaving camp felt surreal. Vivienne wasn’t ready to walk away from Captain Garrett, Melodie, Gus, or the rest of the crew.

Melodie embraced her, murmuring a good luck charm in Zaharaan, her first language. Vivienne clasped Gus’ uninjured hand as he was lifted onto a makeshift stretcher, one of the first sailors bound for the Zephyrus. The captain had only given her a warm smile and a firm pat on the shoulder, no words, just quiet assurance. Though the plan had been hers, anxiety gnawed at her. The thought of the ship sailing away, leaving her temporarily stranded, sent an icy prickle down her spine.

The four of them followed the charted path in the direction of the large, leafless tree. Commander Thorne led with his customary vigilance, sword at the ready. The air held its usual heaviness with the added weight of her unresolved argument with Cirrus. Vivienne kept her gaze ahead, shoulders stiff, refusing to acknowledge him. Cirrus walked a few paces in front of her, his posture just as rigid, his jaw tight with frustration.

Lewis walked next to Vivienne, pushing to keep up with her pace. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She had been quiet since they left camp. He sighed. “Looks like it’s going to be a long day.”

Vivienne pressed her lips together. “It might be.”

Lewis lowered his voice. “About last night… you and Cirrus, what’s going on?”

Vivienne exhaled, some of her defenses slipping. “It’s not the first time we’ve fought, and it won’t be the last.”

“Couples quarrel?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, feigning nonchalance.

“What?” Her brow furrowed. “No. We… Cirrus and I aren’t a couple. I don’t know if I even want to re-open that door. Not after slamming it shut the last time.”

“He’s acting like you are.”

Vivienne’s gaze dropped to the uneven ground. “You know as well as anyone that things between Cirrus and I are… complicated.”

Lewis studied her expression. “Complicated? Sure. But are things over between you two?”

“They never started again,” she clarified.

He frowned, watching Cirrus walk ahead in his natural place at the front of the group. “I’ll always be here for you, Viv,” Lewis said, voice barely above their footsteps. “I always have been.”

Vivienne met his gaze, her expression warm. The tiniest flicker of what she thought might be hope sparked in Lewis’ eyes. He waited for her to say something more, but the moment passed, and they turned their attention back to the path ahead.

* * *

They paused to rest, taking long sips from their water skins. Lewis and Cirrus ventured off to forage, leaving Vivienne and the commander alone under the shade of broad-leafed trees. With the "no one goes anywhere alone" policy in place, Thorne remained close, his hand never far from the grip of his sword.

"This might be the quietest part of the voyage so far," he stated.

"That’s what happens when half the group isn’t speaking to each other," Vivienne replied, prying a small rock from the sole of her boot.

Thorne paused. "I hadn’t?—"

"It’s okay, Owen, I mean, commander." She glanced at him with understanding. "The entire camp heard us fighting last night. You don’t have to feign ignorance."

His shoulders loosened, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I often feel the urge to yell at Theodosia myself. I don’t blame you. He can be infuriating."

Vivienne exhaled a small laugh but then turned serious. "Back at the ruins, Enyo said something about it being ‘interesting you would talk about honor.’ What did he mean by that?"

Owen’s expression shifted, his body tensing as though bracing for an oncoming attack. She could feel the invisible walls he was building between them.

"I've had the displeasure of knowing Enyo for a long time," he said finally, running a hand through his dark waves. "I haven’t always been... the way I am now."

Vivienne studied him, trying to picture a version of Commander Owen Thorne different from the composed, disciplined officer sitting beside her. She imagined him as a child, corralling other kids in line, negotiating at the fish market with perfect manners, and possibly too respectful to ask someone on a date.

"I think we’re meant to change," she offered. "How boring would life be if we never evolved? If we never redefined ourselves?"

Owen’s dark eyes settled on her. "Have you?"

She paused, reflecting on the question. Her entire life had been shaped by her parents’ expectations, her evolution fitting within the fences they’d built. Have I ever changed anything on my own?

"I think I’m in the middle of redefinition right now," she admitted. Then she playfully narrowed her eyes. "Also, you’ve been holding back, commander."

"Holding back?"

"Since when do you speak multiple languages?"

A shy smile ghosted across his lips. "At the Naval Academy, I had few friends. The language electives often had fewer students, so I could go to class and learn something without being harassed. Later, traveling with the Royal Navy, I wanted to communicate with people in their own tongues. So much is lost in translation."

Vivienne’s eyes brightened. "That’s exactly why I wanted to learn them! It’s different reading history in the language of the people who lived it. Well… that, and my specialty required a few ancient dialects."

"You’ve worked at the Library of Metis for a long time, right?"

"Officially since I was fifteen, but I basically grew up there. My parents spent all their time in the library, so I did too."

Owen tapped his boot absently against the ground when a spark of realization crossed his face. "I’d bet we were there at the same time over the years."

"It’s possible," she said with a small smile.

A surety rested in Owen’s expression, as if he were revisiting a memory. He nodded, unable to resist locking his eyes with hers. “Very possible.”