Chapter Hundred-and-five
Gina's POV
As if catching sight of Emily had snapped me out of my daze, my sickness seemed to ease. The endless nausea, the haunting heaves—all of it began to recede, leaving me sharper, alert. Each day that followed, I found myself awaiting meal times eagerly, not for the food but for the chance to scan the faces of my fellow passengers in search of that same cold, familiar gaze. Emily's presence on the ship couldn't be a coincidence. Yet, meal after meal, gathering after gathering, she was nowhere to be found.
I wondered if she did not come out at all. Was it that she never ate her meals or she ate when everyone was done with their food?
“You are looking for her, are you not?” Fabian’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts one afternoon. He glanced over at me, his eyes narrowing just slightly, his pleasant smile not quite meeting his eyes. “The cold princess doesn’t mingle with the rest of us common folk, you know. She dines in private.”
I forced a tight-lipped smile, feigning disinterest. “What makes you think I was looking for her?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just a hunch.” He leaned back, his gaze still fixed on me, as if trying to read something hidden beneath my facade. Fabian’s curiosity seemed constant, irritatingly persistent, but I'd learned to use it to my advantage. He was so easily flattered by even the slightest attention that he’d eagerly offer up any morsel of gossip in exchange.
As days turned to weeks, my attempts to find Emily seemed futile. She was as elusive as a ghost, an echo of my past taunting me from the shadows. I began to wonder if perhaps I’d imagined seeing her that day on the deck.
Then, on the day we anchored off the isle of Braithwaite, everything changed.
The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of exotic flowers, and the ship’s passengers buzzed with excitement. The town bustled with merchants peddling wares, musicians tuning instruments, and children darting around in vibrant costumes. It was lively, disorienting, and a bit overwhelming. I’d come ashore to gather supplies and perhaps a new cloak to add to my wardrobe. My disguise would need every layer I could give it.
As I walked through the market, I overheard a pair of locals murmuring about the festival at dusk. Their eyes were wide with anticipation, their words spilling with reverence as they spoke of the “cold princess” who would be attending. My breath hitched. Emily.
Without hesitation, I set out to find something fitting for the evening—a dress that would blend in but give me enough elegance to move unnoticed among the nobility. I chose a gown of deep green, its shade striking against my now-darkened hair and blue contact lenses. As I paid the vendor, a familiar voice cut through the hum of the crowd.
“Cecille!” Fabian appeared beside me, grinning. His gaze dropped to the gown draped over my arm, and his eyes lit up with approval. “It seems we’re both planning to attend the festival tonight. Maybe I shall get a tailcoat in that colour. Will you help me pick an outfit? We could wear something that matches."
"Why would we wear something that matches? And a festival?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "What festival do you speak of?"
"What then are you shopping for a dress for?" He asked with a raise of his brows. "I just say the green will suit you perfectly. It will make your hair and eyes stand out well. You would look amazing."
"Exactly why I chose it," I said with a tight-lipped smile. "Is there a reason you are still standing in my presence? How may I be of help?"
"Would you honor me as my companion?”
"Companion?"
"For the festival," he said. "Please?"
"I never said I was going to be attending the festival," I retorted sharply. "Why would you assume I have any plans for that?"
"We both know you are not buying a new dress just to take a walk or sit pretty on the ship."
"Whatever I have to do with the dress is none of your business."
"Cecille," he sighed, moving closer. "Do not be like that to me."
"Like what?"
"Will you go with me to the festival?" He asked, his eyes turning sad and serious.
"I have no intention of attending the festival with a date, Fabian."
"Why will you not go with me?" He asked, his eyes still sad.
"This is not about not going with you, it is about not wanting company," I said tightly. "In case you have not noticed, I am not the friendliest in the bunch. I tend to prefer solitude and will only relate to people on business only."
"Allow yourself some fun for once," he smiled. "Live a little. Life every day like It could be your last."
"I would also wish for solitude in my last days."
"No you will not," Fabian said. "You may even wish you had lived a little in your younger days."
"Maybe, maybe not."
"Just for tonight, please. I want to spend my evening with you."
"You barely even know me."
"Maybe, but I've seen enough of you on the ship to know I want to spend time with you," he said. "And I could get to know you more at the dinner."
"Ah, I see," I mumbled, adjusting the dress I was holding.
"So what do you say? Will you go to the festival with me?"
I forced a smile, though my mind raced to find a way to politely decline. Fabian's persistence was becoming tiresome, and though he seemed harmless, his curiosity was beginning to feel more like a liability than an amusement. But when his gaze remained steady and his grin stretched even wider, I realized he wasn't giving me an option.
“Yes,” I finally agreed, feigning warmth. “It would be lovely, thank you.”
He beamed, tipping an imaginary hat. “Excellent! I shall call for you at sunset.”
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