Chapter Eight: Cabin Girl

That evening, instead of going to the mess hall with his roommates so they could pilfer his ration of beer, he tried to find the corridor where he’d first found the girls. All of the doors looked the same.

“Princ- uh… Gus?” he said softly. A door behind him opened and the princess stuck her head out, looked both ways down the corridor, then bade him to come in.

The girls had pushed the cots together, creating a modicum of space, allowing Throp to fit inside without being squished against the wall. Agnes sat on the bed, running a comb through her hair.

“Throp!” she cried. “Have you brought me my tea? No? Then get out of my sight!” She dissolved into giggles and Throp looked at the princess, confused.

“She’s practicing,” the princess explained.

“Ah,” Throp said. He spotted Nib, curled up on the bed next to Agnes. He gave him a scratch behind the ears.

“He’s been staying here with you?” Throp asked. Agnes nodded.

“Mostly he’s below deck, hunting rats,” she said with a grimace. “It was Gus’s idea, letting him do it. The captain was thrilled with it, ordered his men to let Nib be as long as he kept killing. Sometimes he brings them to me, yech.” Throp was surprised at how easily Agnes could refer to the princess as “Gus.” He felt a little envious that even the ferret had settled into sea life easier than he had.

He gestured to the princess’s clothes.

“So, uh, what’s this all about?”

“Oh, I couldn’t stand being cooped up in here the entire trip,” she said. “But the captain was very clear that we were to stay in our quarters unless we were chaperoned. But everyone is very busy and we end up hardly ever leaving.” She furrowed her brow. “I’m surprised the captain didn’t put you on that job.”

Throp shrugged, deciding not to tell her that the captain had suggested it, but Throp declined.

“Anyway,” the princess went on. “I just couldn’t stand it, so I changed clothes and have been posing as a cabin boy.” She pulled the cap off. Her hair had been chopped off, stopping at her chin.

“And your hair!”

“I told her not to,” Agnes said from the bed. She was holding out a hand mirror and examining her face from different angles. “It’ll take ages to grow back.” The princess waved her away.

“It’s just hair,” she said. “And I’m learning so much! I think I might like to sail more often.”

“And no one notices that you’re… y’know?” The princess shook her head.

“I’m a little surprised myself,” she said. “But they hardly paid any mind to the handmaiden and now they hardly pay any mind to the cabin boy except to order me around. It’s very exciting.”

The cabin lurched as the ship hit a patch of rough water and Throp clutched his stomach.

“Are you okay?” Agnes asked. Throp shook his head, waiting for the worst of the queasiness to pass.

“Oh,” the princess said. She dug under her cot and pulled out a small flask. “Drink this. A sip or two every few hours. I was feeling a bit sick at first, too. I got this from the ship’s carpenter.” He popped the lid off the flask and took a sniff and an experimental sip.

“Ulp.” He had to clap a hand over his mouth and force himself to swallow the bitter liquid. The immediate result was another heaving in his stomach.

“Yes,” the princess said. “It’s terrible. But it does help. You can keep that, I’ll get more in the morning. Also, here.” She handed him an envelope similar to the one the captain had given him, but this was unsealed.

“What’s this?”

“A letter for you to give to the king when you return,” she said. “I imagine everyone is worried about me, since you haven’t returned to verify that I boarded the ship. This should absolve you.”

He opened the letter and skimmed it. In tiny, copperplate hand, the princess had created a story in which she, scared of massive ship and the rogues and scoundrels she imagined it was populated with, begged Throp to accompany her on the journey, for she felt she would not be able to eat nor rest without her dear escort by her side. Throp, so dedicated was he to the princess’s comfort and safety, dared not refuse.

“That’s, uh, pretty good I guess,” he said without enthusiasm.

“I really am trying to make it better,” she said softly. “I really am sorry-”

“It’s funny,” Throp said. “Because for all your supposedly good intentions, everything you’ve done since I met you - since before I even met you - has made things worse for me.”

He didn’t plan to shout at her, but his days of anger and frustration seemed to have come to a head and once he started talking the words just kept tumbling out.

“I mean here you are, with your fake princess and no responsibilities and even that’s not good enough for you! You have to go play dress up, insert yourself where you don’t belong! You say you’re sorry but you still can’t stop meddling! I am a thousand miles away from the only place I want to be! Bully for you if you don’t care about your home, but I do! And now I may never get back there and that is ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!” The princess stared at him, her chest heaving. He caught the slightest tremble in her lips and she pushed past him silently and left the room. Throp sighed, not feeling any better after his ranting.

“That was mean,” Agnes said from the bed. Throp threw her a look. Maybe he shouldn’t have shouted at her, but the things he said were true. Still, he found himself wishing he hadn’t said them.

He found the princess leaning on the railing and staring out at the waves, which were lit by the bright full moon overhead. They were alone on the upper deck save for a crewman named Bain, who was sleeping against the ship’s wheel.

She sniffed and wiped her face on her sleeve as he approached.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You weren’t wrong,” she said. “It is my fault. I would have done it differently if I knew it would cause you so much trouble.”

He leaned against the railing next to her, focusing on the moon.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “Being someone’s princess?” She sighed. She reached over and put a hand to his face. He flinched, but she just grabbed the chain around his neck and pulled her medallion out from under his shirt. He still had it, never managing to give it to her in the panic after they set sail.

“This was my grandmother’s,” she said. “She was a commoner before she married my grandfather. A shepherdess. But that wasn’t satisfying enough for her. So one day she left the sheep. No plan, she just… started walking.”

The princess shook her head longingly.

“She went on so many adventures. She told me so many stories. It was my favorite part of the day when I was little, to sit at her feet while she went on about defending her village from raiders, of sailing the ocean, of meeting wonderful, interesting people.” She let the medallion drop against his chest.

“She loved my grandfather very much but I always got the feeling she wasn’t finished.”

“Finished what?” Throp asked.

The princess shrugged.

“Finished living,” she said. “Finished finding herself, figuring out what she really wanted. And if I marry Prince Edwin I might never get to either. I want to dance in a Northshire spring festival, I want to learn to speak the language of the plains people, I want to see a dragon circling the peaks of the Impassable Mountains!”

“I don’t think dragons are real,” Throp said. She turned to him sharply.

“Well, I’ll never know, will I?” she said. “Not if I resign myself to the fate someone else has decided for me. Why should I do that? Why should anyone?”

“Because there’s no guarantee there’s a better life out there,” Throp said. His life wasn’t easy, but he knew it could be a lot worse. He certainly wouldn’t want to take the kind of gamble the princess was taking.

“I don’t think I want better,” the princess said. There was a note of uncertainty in her voice. “I just want options.”

Throp still didn’t understand, but he decided not to push it. He didn’t enjoy being so angry and he didn’t want to fight with her.

“I really am sorry,” she said, her sparkling eyes fixed on him.

“It’s okay,” he said. She relaxed, obviously relieved. He changed the subject, hoping to end the dissipating tension between them.

“So why Gus?” he asked with a laugh, but the princess didn’t laugh back. She was looking back out over the water again. He followed her gaze. Barely visible under the light of the moon, was another ship. Excitement welled up inside of Throp. He didn’t know how sailing vessels worked, if they would come anywhere near this other ship, but if they did…

“Is that ship heading North?” Throp asked.

“I think so,” the princess said.

“Do you think…? I mean, is it possible I could board it? Do you think they would take me back with them?”

“I doubt it,” the princess said.

“Why not?”

“Because they’re pirates.”