Jessica spent the next two days on her own, or tried to, at least.

Her whole life, she believed that if she left her tower to encounter people, she would never tire of others. She thought that she would never want them to stop talking, or absorbing their presences. How wrong she was.

The ship was loud, drunken sailors sang and brawled at all hours in the corridors as they passed. Maids flittering in and out to clean or leave trays of food and water. Even the cawing of sea birds grated on Jessica’s nerves. Laryssa’s constant visits did not help. For someone who was socially starved her whole life, she now longed for her quiet tower balcony as she sat in the sun, surrounded by the forest.

She was tired. And a little broken. Her grand debut into society was not how she envisioned it –not that she willingly debuted- and she had made some soul shattering discoveries. To make matters worse, she was locked in a tiny room with a small porthole as her only form of entertainment. Jessica was used to confinement, but was not taking to it well this time round.

Sebastian had not visited her since the first night she awoke on the ship. Jessica struggled to understand the turmoil of emotions that arose when she thought of Sebastian. The man was attractive -not that the word did him justice- and he seemed almost kind when they spoke after he saw her bruises. He obviously wasn’t completely cold hearted. But he still kidnapped Jessica, and that put a damper on her opinion of him.

She tried not to consider what her dream meant, as it unsettled her greatly. Jessica almost wanted to lift his shirt up in hopes that he wasn’t covered in scars, just to prove she wasn’t insane. Another part of her wanted to lift his shirt up for a different reason. She refused to follow that train of thought, but her cheeks and pointed ears still blazed.

Laryssa had changed dramatically since their first visit, and it unsettled her greatly. The strong interrogator who could read her like a book was gone, replaced by a bubbly buffoon. Two or three times a day Laryssa would arrive, sit in the stall and start gushing about anything, and everything. From men to the latest fashion styles. Her and Sebastian’s travels over the world on their ship. Her inability to fish, even though she lives in the middle of the ocean most of the year. How she hates the snow, but loves a hot beverage a small village in the cold mountains sells.

Jessica mainly didn’t respond, she would nod occasionally, or ask a question if a particular detail piqued her interest. But she barely spoke, she could barely muster any attentiveness for the girl next to her. Jessica’s mind was far too absorbed in how right her Aunt was, if she never left the safety of the tower, her life would not have become the shattered mess it is.

She could figure out what Laryssa was doing. She’d read of the tactics of spies or rival courtiers in novels and knew that she was being played. Laryssa was a thief, interrogator, and assistant kidnapper. She was currently putting on the air of a high-ranking lady who constantly travelled the world. Speaking poetry and recounting adventures across the isles. It was all rather pretty, but fake. If anything, Jessica was disappointed at the effort. It was obvious she was hoping for Jessica to lower her guard and talk about the box, for she did not realise Jessica honestly had no idea what to tell them. But here Laryssa was, yet again, prattling on in her ear, Jessica felt like snapping.

“So, we were in Harrowoon for the light festival. I had buttercups plaited into my hair in a high twist –it was the fashion at the time but a little out dated now- and red velvet gowns were in high society. Red isn’t my preferred colour so I went for a burgundy shade. Our escort, Lady Beatrice, wore red so that was rather fortuitous. It would’ve been a disaster; I would not have ever been able to show my face in Harrowoon again! Which would have been a mighty shame, their men are rather easy on the eyes. Must be the earth magic, what do you think? I haven’t seen much of the peasants -”

“Me neither.” Jessica’s whisper was barely audible.

“- Ah, I knew you were a lady like myself. So, I just assumed it was the earth magic bringing out the prettiness in the folk.” A melodic laugh left Laryssa’s lips. “I suppose that’s not always the case, but I cannot help but notice the strong men in Harrowoon -”

Jessica was close to snapping.

“- Anyhow, where was I? Oh yes, the festival. So, as we were escorted, myself and Sebastian happened upon this small boutique, cakes were their specialty but rare and imported tea-wear was another must from the shop. The crockery was beautiful-”

“Stop.” Jessica whispered so quietly she could barely hear herself over Laryssa’s incessant chatter.

“- Little flowers dotted pots and saucers in a multitude of dyes and patterns. I preferred the swirls, but Sebastian liked the geometric pattern. Much more typical for the males. He also-”

Jessica snapped.

“Oh, for the love of Challiea. No, not even her. For the sanity of all the gods, please shut up." Jessica screamed at the woman. Slamming her fist against the wooden wall, she continued her rant. “For days, days I have asked and all but begged you for quiet, for peace. I am a prisoner on this ship, treat me as such. Fucking flay me for all I care just stop that petty talk of yours. Or maybe, this is torture. It’s highly effective Laryssa, I am very impressed. But it is for naught, because I do not know what you want me to tell you."

Laryssa’s eyes were wide in shock, she was baffled by the sudden outburst. “Okay, but Jessica-”

“Stop! I told you I just want peace.”

“Yes, but look.” She started to lift her finger as Jessica started ranting again.

“No, you look here. I am not who you think I am. I cannot cope with this chatter; I have never had the displeasure of this much chatter in my whole life. I have never gossiped with another female and I am not finding the appeal so please sto-”

“Jessica! Look at the wall!” Laryssa screamed back.

Startled, Jessica turned to where her hand connected with the wall. “Ah, this is why I lived in a stone tower.” She mused, mainly to herself and she looked at her arm that was now covered in thin branches and vines that curled up from where her hand lay against the wooden wall. Sheathing her arm up to her elbow with wood and vines in a spiral.