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Chapter 34: Kneading and Needing
Maeve
“If you wake up earlier, you’ll have a better shot of getting a real breakfast, miss.” Robbie was sitting on a
crate, a thick canvas sail laid over his waist as he sewed a patch into it, the needle nearly as long as his
hand.
I looked down at my bowl of cold sludge, which was the only way I could describe such a thing. It was
oats, probably, with a hint of fly. I picked the fly out of the bowl with my finger, wiping it on the crate I was
perched on and looked around, taking it all in as though for the first time
“Why does the Persephone use sails and not engines? I know this ship has power. I saw the electric
lights.”
“No one can see us if the ship’s powered down.”
“What do you mean? A ship like this? It stands out, trust me.” I stirred my oatmeal, trying to find the
confidence to take a bite.
“Captain Keaton is a traditionalist, you could say.” Robbie breathed, wincing as he pricked his finger with
the needle.
“You mean a pirate”
“Aye, a pirate. He is. He can’t have other ships picking up on our location while were runnin’ goods, so
we turn the engines off and power down when we don’t want to be picked up on radar, you see? That’s
why he chose a Galleon ship when he went into this trade. Cruisers don t have sails.”
“How did he find this thing? Did he build it?”
“A story for another time, miss. Eat.”
I scowled down at my bowl. I was starving, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat it.
“How do you shift, on the boat?” I asked, saying whatever was coming to mind to cut through the
boredom.
“That’s easy. We just turn into dolphins,” Robbie said, his face totally serious and focused on his work.
I opened my mouth, shocked, but then heard a snort from above our heads, where Troy was at the helm,
his hands wrapped around the great wooden steering wheel with a crooked smile on his face.
“Whatever.” I said under my breath, stirring my cold oatmeal again.
“You should eat, Maeve.” Troy said, looking down at me. “I’m sorry.” i said to Robbie. “Do you hear
someone talking?”
Robbie’s eyes went wide, and he puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head as he looked back down at his
work. “What did you get yourself into, Troy?”
“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” Troy laughed, looking down at the compass in his hand before turning the wheel
a fraction of an inch.
“Where is the real captain today? I’d like a private audience with him.”
“He’s likely in the infirmary, with Myla,” Troy said down to us, arching his eyebrow in my direction. He was
trying to get a rise out of me.
“Stop talking to me,” i bit out, setting my untouched oatmeal down on the crate and turning my back on
Troy, my eyes focused on Robbie.
Robbie scratched his beard, looking up at Troy for help. “Don’t leave me with this one-”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt
“Well, she won’t talk to me. She needs someone else to harass. Looks like that’s you, pal,” Troy said.
I knew he was smiling, I could feel it. Damn him.
“It’s kind of the captain to look in on my friend”I began, giving Robbie a fake smile.
“He likely has other motives,” Troy interrupted.
spun around, glaring up at him. “I said STOP talking to me,” I snapped, turning back around and fixing
Robbie with a glare, sizing him up.
He swallowed, squaring his shoulders.
“She wants a fight, Robbie,” Troy said with mirth.
Chapter 34: Kneading and Needing
Robbie looked around, uncomfortable, his shoulders tensing as I narrowed my eyes at him. “When can I
expect to see the captain?
“He’s right there, miss,”
“NOT Troy. I need to see Keaton.”
“Well, I can’t say for sure”
“I want to know where we’re going. I need to get word to my family somehow so they know I’m alright.”
“We’re heading into open waters, Maeve,” Troy said, completely ignoring the fact that I didn’t want him to
speak to me for the rest of our lives.
I ignored him, staring Robbie down.
“We’re, uh, heading into open waters,” he said nervously, looking back up at Troy.
I stood, stalking over to where Robbie was sitting, frustration and pent-up energy coursing through my
veins. I was going to get something out of someone. Someone had to know what the plan was.
“Careful Rob, she bites,” Troy laughed.
Abruptly I turned on my heel to look up at him as Robbie let out an audible sigh of relief. “Stop-”
“Leave Robbie alone, Maeve. I’m the one you’re mad at.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“You keep talking, though?” Troy gave me a smirk, shrugging his shoulders.
That was it. I was about to lose it. I had no qualms of handing his ass to him in front of his entire crew.
I marched up the stairs, my hands clenched into fists so tight that my nails were digging into the palms of
my hands. Robbie called for me, his voice shaky as he did so. Other crew members stopped what they
were doing to watch as I walked up to Troy, fury flaming behind my eyes.
Oh, how I wanted to scream, to hit something. The past day and a half had been a living nightmare. I
was sick over it, of the loss of the terror and the grief. I blamed Troy for all of it. I was out for blood.
And Troy was enjoying it. He was watching me spin out of control and taking pleasure in it. I pulled my
arm back, thrusting it forward with every intention of socking him cleanly in the jaw when someone
grabbed my arm, their fingers tightening around my flexed muscles.
“Not here,” Keaton said, his voice low.
Troy steeled his expression, nodding toward the lower deck. “She’s idle. She needs a job, Keat.”
“I can see that,” Keaton turned me around, looking me up and down before leaning to speak into my ear.
“What did I say would happen to you if you risked the safety of my crew?”
*I didn’t-”
“I don’t tolerate fighting on my ship.”
“He deserves,” I began.
“Your utmost respect, darlin’. You don’t realize the position he’s in now, do you?” Keaton asked.
I sneered, pushing Keaton away, but he only tightened his grasp on my arm, squeezing until I flinched
from the pain.
Troy wavered, taking a step forward as though to break us apart, but then he stilled, watching Keaton
with a careful eye.
Keaton straightened up, looking around until he spotted Robbie on the deck below. “Take her to Olly.”
“Olly?” I squeaked, remembering my conversation with Pete the night before. I swallowed, shaking my
head. “No, I won’t.”
“Then you can apologize to Troy for being a right pain in the ass, Princess,” Keaton said as he leaned
toward me again, his eyes wide and serious
i bit my lower lip pushing past him and darting down the stairs toward Robbie, who looked up at Troy with
another helpless expression.
Troy only nodded, looking grave as I pushed through the doors leading to the lower levels of the ship,
fighting back tears of anger, fear, and frustration
Who were these people?
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Chapter 34: Kneading and Needing
Olly was a portly man, short and stocky with a mass of gray hair that he wore in a tight bun at the nape of
his neck. He was dressed in a shirt and trousers much like my own, but wore a surprisingly clean apron
for how busy the kitchen looked as peered around.
“Ever cooked before?” he asked, his eyes narrowed as he looked me up and down.
I nodded, looking at the wide table in the center of the kitchen that was covered in pots and bags of
grains and beans. “I can make eggs. um. I baked a cake with my mom once-”
Olly shook his head, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a fresh apron, tossing it in my direction. I
grabbed it, unrolling it and tying it behind my back. “Put your hair up, too. And wash your hands.”
I nodded, tying up my hair in a bun on the top of my head and walking toward the sink, but I found the
faucet was dry.
“No power right now, kid, you have to use the pump.”
I looked around, seeing a water pump and a second sink, this one much larger than the first, on the other
side of the room.
When I had finished washing and drying my hands I made my way back over to the center table,
watching Olly with interest as he chopped several large carrots with quick precision. Four large, plucked
chickens were sitting in pans on one side of the table, waiting to be dressed. My stomach rumbled loudly
and painfully at the sight.
Olly looked up, his eyebrow arched. “Didn’t eat breakfast?”
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm“1-I slept late. There was only oatmeal left.”
“Well, that’ll need to change if you’re going to be working in the kitchen. I need you here at six every
morning, on the dot. Breakfast starts at seven, and then we clean up and lay out dried goods for lunch.
Then we start on supper.” He pushed a bowl covered in a towel in my direction. I peaked instead, seeing
a large, bubbling mound of dough. “Knead it will ya? Dust the table with flour before you do; otherwise, it’
Il stick.”
I looked at him helplessly for a moment as he dumped the carrots into the pans of chicken, rolling his
eyes as he went to the water pump and washed his hands.
“Like this,” he said, sprinkling flour on the table and dumping the dough out onto the surface. He began
to push against it, folding and turning it as he repeated the motion. I nodded in understanding, taking
over as he went back to work on the carrots and potatoes.
“You gotta eat kid. What do you think happens on a boat full of wolves if people start going hungry?” He
was chopping potatoes as he spoke, his eyes on his task. “Hunger exacerbates the pent-up energy
they’re already experiencing by not being allowed to shift on board. That’s why you’re here, you know.
You need an outlet. You’re my bread maker now, kid.”
Kneading dough did feel nice. After kneading three large batches my shoulders were burning with effort,
and the anger and frustration that had been causing my body to tighten had lessened, the tension
working its way out as I shaped the dough and plopped it in bread pans.
Olly began to stoke the wood-powered oven as I cleaned up, wiping the debris off the table and
scrubbing it with a soapy rag. I looked over my shoulder at the shiny electric stove and oven in the corner
next to a refrigerator, which had been propped open. He noticed me looking at it, shaking his head
slightly as he closed the wood oven’s heavy iron door.
“There’s a cooler downstairs, at the bottom of the ship. Keeps the fresh produce cold in lieu of the fridge.
And we have fresh dairy. chickens, and eggs from the goats and poultry downstairs as well.”
“Goats?” I asked, unable to hide my excitement. The castle had had a few goats. They were menaces,
constantly breaking out of their pens and ravaging the kitchen garden.
“Yeah, my wife Meran tends to them. You’ll see her at supper when she brings up the milk. I’ll teach you
how to make cheese and yogurt tomorrow.”
Another few hours passed in light conversation centered around Olly’s expectations for the kitchen. I
washed dishes and laid out plates and utensils in the dining room in preparation for dinner.
The sun was setting by the time Olly brought the bread and chicken out of the ovens, and the two of us
carried the food out to the dining room as the crew was beginning to trickle in, grabbing their plates and
serving themselves as the room filled with laughter and loud conversation.
I saw Cleo as I grabbed my own plate. I went to her, hugging her gently before sitting down next to her
and eating like my life depended on it. When I finally looked up from my meal and glanced around, I saw
Troy sitting with a group of men, a pint of beer in his hands as he spoke, his eyes alight with joy and
laughter.
I’d never seen him smile like that. It made my heart tighten to see it. He was home.
He looked at me, his mouth open in a smile that hadn’t been meant for me, but it was there, nonetheless.
After a long moment, he winked, then slowly turned his gaze back to his companions.
I had the sudden desire to have him in bed with me tonight. Damn it all.
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