Days went by like a fading flower, slow but purposeful, each petal gently dropping with the weight of time. As night fell, Morvain felt like getting some fresh salty air.
He had carefully checked every person working on the ship—counting heads, noting their spots, keeping track of their tasks, and thinking about their skills. Picking this time of night when the deck was less crowded, Morvain stepped outside.
Murmurs lingered in the darkness, whether below deck, above deck, or in hidden corners where eyes couldn't see. Whispers and secrets intertwined, creating an undercurrent of anticipation that flowed through the ship like an invisible stream.
The role of an unofficial advisor has indeed proven valuable. He was in the loop with the discussions of the highborns.
He had suggested to Nolan to only present him as a butler to the other highborns. No need for them to know he's an advisor. Moreover, if any of them, with a bit of smarts, found out a lowborn was advising a highborn, they might connect the dots and label him as the mastermind behind the strange happenings on the ship.
But all in all, it turned out to be a positive development.
He observed a line of men hauling the sails. Naturally, most of these men were awakened, and it's quite probable that their ability was 'Brawn Infusion.'
This ability beefs up physical strength and endurance, letting the user pull off impressive displays of power. Despite being tiring work, Morvain could detect a glimmer of hope in their eyes.
A hope that the coming days will be brighter.
He strolled towards the ship's side, feeling the sway in the high tide, but now more resilient than before. He didn't succumb to seasickness anymore.
Men were up on the mast, diligently performing their tasks. In the crow's nest, a man kept watch for dangers in the open sea—also awakened.
The wooden floorboards were damp today, courtesy of the rain and saltwater. But he paid it no mind. Leaning against the railings, he peered down into the ocean. The night's darkness made him uneasy, but he craved the fresh air.
And something else.
He discreetly ran his fingers along the rail, searching up, down, and around the corner until he found it—a small piece of paper adhered to the underside of the wooden rail.
As anyone in his position would do, he glanced left and right to ensure there were no witnesses before unfolding the paper.
"I have more than a hundred and fifty young, eager men ready at hand. Just give the signal, and we'll do it tonight itself."
A small smile crept onto his face as he read the note. It was from Rony.
'So it begins.'
"Hey," a sudden voice from behind startled him. He almost let go of the paper, but fortunately, he managed to secure it at the last second.
His heart raced, and in a hurry, he stashed the paper into his pocket, swiftly turning around. It was Lumiere, the third daughter of the Frosthelm family, standing mere inches away from him.
'Did she see that? Nah, no way.'
She wore a simple green and blue dress adorned with patterns and jewels. Her recently bathed hair hung freely, glistening as it cascaded down.
'A true highborn indeed,' he thought.
He found himself appraising her too much, forgetting the most basic etiquette when meeting a highborn. Quickly realizing his mistake, he bowed deeply before her.
"My lady, what brings you here at this hour of the night?" he asked, head still respectfully bowed.
"Eldric, wasn't it?" She asked.
"Yes, my lady. Unfortunately, it is."
'Did she ask that idiot about me? Hell! Did he blurt out the truth since he has this tendency to please any woman? Ughhh! What if he told her the truth?' Morvain cursed Nolan silently.
"You may straighten up, Eldric," she said, her face displaying a hint of disappointment.
"Of course, my lady," Morvain straightened up.
'I need to find this girl's play.'
He still avoided looking at her face, focusing instead on the ground. There was no reason to incur any highborn's wrath right now. He was too powerless for that.
A tension-filled pause hung in the air. He felt as if she was sizing him up. Then, she sighed and strolled toward the railing, leaning against it to take in the salty air.
'Is she onto me? Shit.'
Her silence was making him uneasy. She sought him out, asked about him, and now she was here. What did she want? Only she knew.
Not to mention, she smelled nice.
'What are you saying, Morvain? Lavender is the only one you should smell.'
He shook his head, attempting to calm himself, but before he could say anything, the girl beat him to it.
"Why did you reject my help back that day?"
"Huh...?" He was genuinely perplexed. 'Help? What help?' He frowned.
"The food I offered that day...why did you reject that?" Her voice had a hardness to it. "Is it because you think I was looking down on you? Because you don't want to be in debt to a highborn?"
Both reasons were true, but he couldn't voice them aloud.
"No, no, my lady, nothing like that. This humble lowborn is grateful for the kind gesture. But I had my reasons, and I believe they were good enough to reject such a generous offer."
"Tell me. I want to hear it."
"Er..."
'This girl.'
"I...uh...I had already lost my appetite that day, my lady. After that rock-hard bread, I was afraid my teeth would fall off if I were to bite anything else at that moment."
He did what he was really good at—lying. But to his surprise, he heard a small giggle from the girl. Though it was mixed with the roaring sound of the sea, he clearly heard her laughter. It was like a bell ringing on a winter morning. Refreshing.
'What on earth, Morvain! She's a highborn! You can't be thinking about her like that!' He shook his head.
"Oh, come on now, Eldric. It wasn't that hard, was it?" She turned around and eyed him, placing a hand on her mouth to muffle her laughter.
Morvain gave her a look as if she were insane for considering that food even remotely edible. It was a rock. An actual rock even than the 'Gem of Eclipse.'
"Are you kidding? You should have held it in your hand; then you would've realized it wasn't bread but rather a rock with a very thin layer of bread coating."
Morvain let his true feelings out. This was it. Back at his home, he would have gotten something edible every now and then. He and Eldric would've pilfered some vegetables from the market, and Lavender would've worked her culinary magic.
And this girl had the audacity to ask why he rejected her 'kind gesture.'
"Now that you say it, it must've been very hard for you," she said, her voice now carrying a tinge of sympathy. "I'm sorry for not understanding your situation."
'This girl is different,' Morvain thought. 'Why is she even talking about a bread incident that happened weeks ago? Unless... she's still salty about the whole incident.'
He was now confused. What was she after? Is she going to order her guards to throw him into the open sea for this simple matter?
Then her demeanor swiftly changed to one of seriousness, and he felt the air around him cooling significantly. He sensed it in his body, in his heart, and in his soul. As if the weight of unspoken words lingered between them, pregnant with meaning and intent.
He gulped. Here it comes.
"Tell me something, Eldric, son of Gideon, what do you think about the current situation of our society?"
A question that Morvain had used to gauge the other person's ideology, one he had answered many times before.
Yet, this time was different. This time, he was talking to a highborn. The third daughter of the Frostholm Province—the girl destined to become a Highlady someday, when he executes his plans. And here she was, asking him questions that could cost him his head.
He needed to choose his words wisely, to say the right things, and he needed to say them now. The weight of his response hung heavy in the air, like the calm before a storm, leaving the outcome shrouded in uncertainty.