Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 6
Acouple of hours pass, and I report to Thor’s cabin just as he asked me to. The upper decks of the ship are better appointed. The ones I have been frequenting in the hopes of staying clear of anybody too important have smooth floors and unadorned walls. It’s like being in an easy clean maze.
His floor is different. There is carpeting on the floors, and a light scent of something floral or maybe tropical. The air is quite literally more refined here.
I tap lightly on his door.
“Come!” he calls out.
The door slides open, and I step into Thor’s quarters. They are quite spacious, and well decorated. There are wall hangings with runes upon them for protection and care. I wonder if he chose them himself, or if they just came with the room.
This space is much nicer than the maintenance bunks I don’t dare to sleep in for fear of that being how I get found out. I don’t want to be caught being obviously surplus to requirements in that kind of way.
Thor is standing in front of me wearing long black pants, black shining boots, and a black shirt that is open almost all the way to his navel. He’s adjusting his sleeves as he greets me, rolling them up over his massively muscled forearms.
“You look pretty,” I say. I’m not used to complimenting men. I guess that’s probably how you do it.
Thor smirks, taking the compliment the right way, thank the gods. “Thank you,” he says.
I don’t have a change of clothes so I am still in my maintenance uniform. I instantly feel very underdressed. I have to bring it up, because it’s so obviously weird.
“It didn’t occur to me to get into civilian attire. I’m sorry,” I say. “I will go get changed.”
That last part is a bluff. I can’t really go and get changed, unless it is into the clothes I was wearing on the day I snuck onto the ship, and they’re not exactly going-out-to-dinner clothes.
“No,” he replies. “You look cute in overalls.”
“Sure, but I’m absolutely stunning in a burlap sack,” I joke self-deprecatingly.
He chuckles and reaches for my hand. I offer it to him and he takes it, leading me deeper into his personal space.
“And you don’t have to share with anyone?” I don’t have to try to sound impressed. I am deeply impressed.
“I was fortunate enough to be considered for an individual berth,” he says. “I bet it’s fun in the maintenance dorms though, huh?”
“Oh, yeah,” I grin, pretending I hang out there, the way he clearly expects me to.
“It’s cute that you’re in maintenance,” he says, his tone admiring. “It means you took literally any position they offered you in order to seek the stars. That attitude is why your family settled the city. It’s not something that can be taught, or even trained. It’s something that has to come from a place deep inside.”
“Is that why you’re on the vessel?”
“I am here because this is the most noble endeavor. To find new lands and to settle them, to claim new territory for those who come after us—what other life could be any more noble?”
He sounds like a propaganda leaflet, but I let him have it because I can tell his passion is real. Also, he saved Freya’s life. Maybe he’s kind of a dork with this goody-goody act, but I guess it’s possible he’s also actually good.
“Come and sit down,” he says, gesturing to a dining table that his suite is furnished with. “Would you like some mead?”
“Absolutely,” I say. “I can’t believe you have that as well.”
“We are fortunate,” he repeats himself.
We are living two very different lives on the same ship, that much is certain. He is privileged and highly resourced. I am not supposed to be here at all, and very much scraping by.
He looks at me and his face shifts. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to make you feel bad. I want to share all of this with you. I even ordered special rations for the evening.”
“Is this our first date?” I smile the question at him. We’ve had sex, but that’s not the same as dating.
“You could say that,” he says. “I suppose it’s more of a date than…”
I blush and he trails off as we both remember what we did in the hospital, and how hot it was.
I smile up at him under my lashes, and give us both this sweet little moment. I don’t know how many more of them we are going to get. If he finds out about my deception, he might report me, and I might end up in the brig for the duration of the journey.
I really do not want to be imprisoned, if I can help it.
This is a dangerous game, and I know it. I maybe should have told him I couldn’t come and just ignored him, but then he might have asked my shift supervisor about my schedule, and realize nobody knows who the hell I am.