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"I…..understand how uncomfortable this topic is for you," he began, looking down at his feet with a frown, "but I would like a bit of clarification on what you said in the captain's cabin."
"I…..understand how uncomfortable this topic is for you," he began, looking down at his feet with a frown, "but I would like a bit of clarification on what you said in the captain's cabin."
She pursed her lips and came over to him, sitting next to him on the bed and running her hand through her hair. "Like I said," she said slowly, agonizingly trying to piece together everything she was feeling, "I don't really know how I feel. But that…" she sighed and tilted her head back. "But that doesn't mean I don't like you." She groaned and fell back completely, covering her eyes with an arm. "I'm hopeless…" she mumbled.
"What do you mean?" he asked, twisting around to face her. The ice fell to the ground and spilled out on to the floor, but he didn't particularly care at the moment.
"I mean that I'm a mess with no way sort through everything because emotions suck and are too confusing and less…" she held her hands up in an attempt to explain, "factual. Straight forward. I like facts. I don't like being confused, but you make me confused, but I don't not like you, and it's just—" she dropped her arms over her face and groaned again.
"I suppose I can understand where you are coming from," he said, scratching the bottom of his jaw. "It is definitely better than nothing."
She rubbed at the corner of her eyes with a sigh, disappointed in herself. "What about you?" she finally managed to get out, "You said you fancied me."
"And that is the truth." He stared at the dent in the wall from where he threw the stone. "You are the first person in the 7 years I've spent on the run that I've felt like staying someplace with. You let me feel welcome in a place were I cannot really fit in, and stick up for me at every turn."
She bit her lip, listening to him, then replaying his words over and over again once he was done. She slowly sat up and looked over at the prince. "You really think so?" she asked quietly, glancing up at his eyes.
"I mean," he glanced over at her and smiled softly, "I am still here, are I not? If it was not for you, I would have just gotten off at the port and not come back."
"It's still an option," she said, just as softly as he. Her gaze darted down to their hands, which were resting so close, then back up to his eyes.
"Not after meeting you, it's not." He hesitantly reached out and took her hand.
She sighed and laced her fingers through his, glad he had taken the lead, and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Stubborn as always, prince."
"You know," he said, leaning into her slightly, "I would hold more political clout than you if we were still in our respective positions."
She scoffed and poked him in the side. "Don't you even dare," she threatened with a soft laugh, then hummed and thought about it. "A prince falling for a pirate. Unfathomable."
"My dad would have killed me if he was here," he said with a small smile. "I would not much care, though."
"But," she said, "How would he react if I told him my name and ancestry?" She tilted her head, then scrunched up her nose. "Scratch that. He'd contact my parents and I'd be back in Hell."
"He would probably still see you as unfit," he confessed. "He was a little full of himself. A very loving father, though."
She sighed. "And here I thought I was the best of the best," she said with feigned sadness. She was growing comfortable with leaning against Anto and holding his hand. The fluttering emotions in her chest were finally sorting themselves out into something comprehensible the more she did this with Anto. Talked with him. Held him. Let her guard down around him.
"You should thank Mercedes, by the way," he said, gently nudging her head with his own. "She was the one who encouraged me to do this."
She curled her nose up but didn't pull away. "Busybody. Can't talk, but finds every excuse to get into people's business." She didn't sound angry, however. In fact, there was a hint of gratitude.
"I appreciate it," he said, his smile growing. "How are the new recruits getting along?"
"Well enough. The sharpshooter's name is Ming, by the way. White is going to be trouble, I reckon. Hugh and Johnnie are going to dorm together."
"Tomorrow we should start training them," the Prince said, "White definitely needs to hone his skills a bit."
Fane nodded in agreement but didn't make a move to get off of Anto's shoulder. She was comfy, and it's been forever since she was able to let herself relax and be comfortable around someone.
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