Jessica’s mind was reeling as she stared out of the porthole, everything was black, dark, and hollow. She couldn’t make out the soft water to calm her nerves or hear the vast waves crashing against the side of the ship to drown out her thoughts. She could barely breathe in the salt air as sharp, panicked breaths took over her senses.

In this moment she didn’t care that she lost her home, or that she’d been kidnapped. Her mind wasn’t focused on what Agatha must think about her disappearance. Or even the otherworldly fact that -even though she had never seen this man sat next to her as he was hidden in a cloak- she vividly dreamed every correct detail about him. Right down to the liquid properties of his turquoise and sapphire eyes.

In this moment all she could think about was the bruises that marred her wrists.

She tried to comfort herself in small soothing movements, tried to settle her breathing and tried to imagine the ocean. But, all Jessica could think was the shameful voice in her gut It was wrong, it was always wrong. No one you love should ever lay a hand on you in such a fashion. The gnawing ball inside kept tugging at her resolve every time she glanced at it, but she could ignore her own opinions. Even Laryssa’s hounding wasn’t as bad as her brothers' glance. He looked at the bruises with eyes full of pity, like he knew exactly what caused them. Jessica had never been pitied before, and for someone who never even heard of it other than in novels, she somehow instantly knew it was pity in his eyes.

Some fundamental part in Jessica broke. The part that had been lying all this time to protect her shut down, and all she could feel was shame.

Since childhood Jessica told herself it was normal to suffer for a loved one. She did not relate to those who were abused in her novels. Or when she learnt about beaten women in her history books. She felt anger for them. But she never related to those emotions, or felt like her situation was similar. She was so focused on helping her aunt, having a purpose, she could not see what was in front of her. Being in confinement her whole life Jessica yearned for a purpose, love, and safety. She believed her aunt provided those things to her.

Jessica could cope with her own self-inflicted shame, but not others pity.

She slowly turned to the man by her side. It had been minutes since they last shouted at each other, but he still had not moved. Intent on watching her inner turmoil playout. His sharp jaw was held tight, his eyes soft and full of sadness. It was almost humorous, the man who had kidnapped her and threatened her was now pitying her. “What’s your name?” She whispered, clearing her throat so she could finish the sentence half way through.

“Sebastian.” He spoke so softly, such a contrast to his previous harsh demeanor.

“Do you love your sister Sebastian?”

“Yes.” Sebastian was obviously taken aback by this, he looked at her quizzically.

“Would you ever harm your sister, to help yourself? Or harm her as a need of survival?” She sounded hollow as she spoke. Sebastian eyed her for a moment, searching for a hidden answer in her eyes.

“No, never.”

“Would you ever willingly harm yourself so she could live comfortably?”

“No, that is not love. Love is not about what you can take from or give to another, it is supporting and building one another. A foundation that is meant to strengthen, not weaken, over time.” Jessica nodded mechanically as she digested his answer. She seemed to go through the motion due to muscle memory, rather than being aware of her movements. She looked back down to her lap and mentally folded in on herself.

“I do not know what has happened to you, or your story Jessica. And you may not trust us, or like being here. I may have threatened you, but please understand I did not mean it to upset you. I am under a stressful situation, and sometimes do not act rationally. I believe there’s a chance you could help me, help my people, but I need you to tell me everything you know about that box; and your power.” He still spoke softly, but there was more power and authority in his words, trying to convey his desperation without admitting it. For a moment, Jessica continued to look at her lap, still stroking her thumbs under the covers.

Eventually she nodded her head in recognition of his words but just whispered “I would like to be alone please.”

He nodded and slowly rose from the chair. He looked at her for another moment and awkwardly shuffled his feet, waiting for her to look up at him. She did not.

Jessica listened to his footsteps as he walked towards the door without another word; the silent click the only proof that he left the room.