Chapter 54: Petty Insults
Serenica gave Spade the rope after making him promise he wouldn't hang himself with it.
"Let's make a deal," he said. "If I won't take my own life, neither will you."
Serenica thought this agreement was very good. She hadn't had those nasty, desperate thoughts since coming aboard the Princess. Actually, the thoughts had vanished entirely after the first encounter she had had with piracy. She could never have guessed that Gadfly would have such a huge influence on her. It had all begun from such a small detail, a bad knee, a scarf, some gold.
Serenica still had that scarf. She thought about giving it back to the boatswain, but she had an emotional attachment to it by now. There was way she could part with it.
It was funny that a constant fear of death made one love life so much.
The ominous feeling only got more intense each day. There were glances and murmurs and everyone was sleeping lightly, getting up often to chat with the watchman of the night. The subtle painfulness in the way the men moved became more and more obvious, until Serenica became nervous enough to consider drugging the food with something tranquilizing. Never did a moment pass by without someone drumming the deck with their feet or tapping an uneasy rhythm on the ropes with shaking fingers. The reason for it was never spoken of, and all the conversations in general were shallow and artificial in nature. The weather was often the topic of these talks. Everyone said it was dreadful, even though the winds were favorable and the sun was shining.
Serenica felt sick all the time. She began to despise the part of the crew that seemed like the main culprit, Seppei and some of his friends.
When she looked into a mirror one night, she thought she saw someone other than herself.
Mirrors were a terribly scary thing for witches who had not mastered the art of scrying with them. Even then, it was common knowledge to be careful around all reflective surfaces while doing magic. That was one of the reasons for the massive amount of superstitious beliefs around water. Even a small puddle could do worse things than kill.
Serenica was currently surrounded by water and a possibility of a mutiny. She didn't sleep well.
The person she had seen in the mirror had looked a lot like her, but not quite the same. She tried to avoid ruminating, but the sight of cheeks that were just a little too puffy to be hers had left its mark on her.
It could have been a benevolent entity, of course, but the sea was not known for letting such spirits rise back up from the waves. The most horrifying possibility was that the stranger had been someone or something that followed those who dealt with death and dying - that the stranger had been the Mother of Worms herself. It didn't even sound that unlikely.
Serenica was, after all, working for a deadrouser. That thought kept her awake until she couldn't see straight.
The rest of the crew wasn't doing much better. Where there had been friendly banter, there was now subtle aggression. Brothers turned against brothers. Myorka got left out of those wholesome little games the men played, and the games themselves turned into serious competition. The atmosphere was tenser than the muscles of a hunting lioness.
Things were not well.
"Everybody's insane these days," the Admiral complained to Serenica, apparently thinking of her as a sane person.
It was a bit funny how the first mate had been spared from the general foul mood. Sure, he was annoyed by the behavior of his men, but his innate optimism and resilience had not suffered. He was still the most reasonable and sane man Serenica had ever known, which was amusing. He killed people with his bare hands as a part of his job, after all.
"I'm not so sure of myself anymore, either," Serenica said and explained the thing she had seen in her mirror.
The Admiral sighed. "You should check if there's anything in the water."
There was nothing wrong with the water. They had lunch, which was one of the few good things they had left. Serenica took an extra portion of bread from the first mate and felt sated afterwards.
Myorka wasn't her best self that day. She cried often, and her ingenious tongue spewed thinly veiled insults at anyone who suggested she might be anything but a perfect queen fully entitled to everything she wanted.
"I have received no tribute from the men in weeks," she complained. "My calculations save them so much money, but no, their cognitive biases have made them believe saving money is nothing compared to outright gaining it. I feel unappreciated. Unloved."
Serenica shook her head. She thought the bookkeeper was too demanding. The crew wasn't exactly all gentlemen. Men of lowly birth could hardly be expected to behave like nobility.
As intuitive as ever, Myorka noticed the healer's expression and snorted. "You have never thought you could receive unprompted displays of affection. You poor thing. Just because you are comfortable with eating dust in permanent scarcity it doesn't mean the rest of us have to be stupid like that."
"That hurt," Serenica said, astonished by her own bravery. This was the first time she had ever spoken to the bookkeeper like that.
"Did it hurt? It's true."
"I can't understand why you'd accuse me, of all people, of having no ambition," Serenica said. "I work my fingers to the bone so that I can be the healer of thieves, you understand? I don't mean just any healer. I intend to be the best."
"Suit yourself, spinster," Myorka hissed.
"Know this: your man is afraid I will take you from him," Serenica shot back.
Suddenly she noticed the captain standing behind them. It was frightening that a man of his size was able to move like a ghost.
"Girls, you will calm down now if you don't want me to hex you both," Spade said.
Serenica withdrew from the conversation. It looked bad enough that a little hex sounded useful.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone