Hush now, this isn't the first time, she reminded herself, as she stormed out of the Guthrie office. She mustn't let those tears flow for him. He will never have any right over them like that. But she was still a girl, and stifled sobs escaped despite her mind raging and reprimanding her to take a hold of herself. No one must see, she glanced around fervently, not when I'm like this.
She brushed past Mr Scott on her way out, the man calling after her, but she paid him no mind, already noting that knowing her antics well, he must already have guessed what had transpired. After all, he's run after her countless times before, wiped away those tears and whispered soothing words.
Now was not the time to listen to him, to be reminded yet again of how her father still loved her, cared for her. Did she really seem that blind to him? That she would still believe this concocted lie he'd been feeding her since she was a child? She was much too old to put faith in those words now. Life had given her a dose of this harsh reality one times too many. If she didn't learn now, she never would. And she'll be damned if she set herself up for yet another disappointment.
There was a certain comfort in how her bare feet sunk in the sand as she ran to the beach. The wind flowing and grasping at her long, golden hair, wild strands whipping at her face, soon wiping away all trace of remnant tears. Like it never happened. It always started like this, she recalled. Her riled up in hot tears, running off. But soon after, the tears would be gone, leaving only a burning rage behind. She had been stuck in this endless loop for years, this feeling all too familiar. This time, it came with a silent resolve to not let this rage simply evaporate, but to nourish it and let it grow. Maybe, she thought, it will serve as cold reminder of what never to expect.
She bumped past strangers, searching frantically for a path that wouldn't lead to her discovery. It was only a matter of time before Mr Scott would find her, but this time she was determined not to make it too easy. Instead of going to her usual spot, she decided to head in the opposite direction, the isolated part of the beach, where the streets were emptier and the camps far off. Where nobody could recognize her and direct him to her. She pictured the look of worry on Mr Scott's face and for a second, smirked. Perhaps he would send news to father of my disappearance, she thought. Perhaps her old man would finally have cause to rejoice and bend those thin lips of his into a satisfied smile. At least, for once, she'd make him smile for her. This is what he wants, isn't it?
Lost in her thoughts, she finally reached a spot that seemed fit. No more strange looks from these ignoble beings which the other side of the beach was swarming with, no more jeering or shouting. It was quiet, with just the sounds of the waves crashing onto the sand and plucking at her toes, a slight breeze caressing her cheeks. An empty skiff lay not far from where she stood. She crawled into it and settled, thinking of how foolish she had been not to come here before. It was perfect.
She lay down on the hard wood and despite better judgment her mind reeled back to recounting what had happened. I was only eavesdropping on his fucking meeting, she frowned. It was a habit of hers by now, she wanted to see the man her father was outside of the looks he spared for her, to really see the man behind the mask, how he was with the rest of the world when she was not present. Today, she had witnessed him deep in conversation with a young man. Tall, graceful, with hair tied in a pony tail and a manner of speaking unlike the rest of the foul men she'd often seen her father with. This one wasn't a pirate, at least he didn't seem to be. Although his clothes certainly were, so were his weapons, and there was an older, balding man with an intricate tattoo on the back of his neck standing beside him. She's never seen her father deal so respectfully with any of them before, he always left such matters to Mr Scott if he could help it. He rather preferred his rich, posh clients instead, with whom he'd sip tea and chatter about politics.
Her father excused himself when he saw her peeping eyes from the corridor, only to roughly grab her hand and take her to the other room and remind her that he would not have her listening in again. It wasn't his words that hurt, it was his tone, his cold eyes that had nothing but indifference in them when he looked at her. Why couldn't he see that she could help him? Learn about what he did? Talk to these men sitting right beside him? She'd be careful to hold her tongue, she had promised him so many times she would. But he'd either not bother to answer or just walk out of the room, sometimes not even glancing at her for days on end. This time too, it wasn't his words that stung, it was the look of pure revulsion in which he regarded her, as though she was a nuisance, a burden he was forced to carry and a hard one to manage at that.
As much as she craved these moments alone with her father, she also dreaded them. They only made her realize her true worth to him all the more. She wondered if curiosity accounted for her actions or was it just so she could have him look at her again, even if it was with disdain. Surely, anything was better than nothing?
Her heart lurched, feeling of self loathing rising inside her. Here she was thinking about him, when he must have forgotten about her the instant he'd left her crying in that room. He probably didn't even see me leave, she huffed. Why would he?
Let this be my last lesson, she repeated to herself over and over. Never again...
"You're in my skiff," a voice growled over her.
Startled, she sat up and noticed a boy peering down at her.
Him, she reflected. She'd seen this one before.
A face in the crowd when she'd run to the beach a few weeks ago, in a manner quite similar to her current predicament. She'd found herself in the pirate camps, not caring if her legs took her to the most dangerous corners of this place, rather wishing it.
She had soon became aware of a steady pair of eyes among all those formidable faces, looking at her intently. Unflinching, she'd stared right back, matching his intense gaze, shooting him a smile in the hopes of unnerving him, of showing him who between them was untouchable. Instead of looking away and going about his business, the boy had smirked right back, his blue eyes piercing into her in approval and obvious amusement. Taken aback, she'd scoffed and marched off in defiance, slightly dismayed at not having had the effect she'd planned and rather, being challenged herself. It didn't come as a surprise that she'd remember this trivial moment. She never forgot a slight, especially if it involved her not being taken seriously.
"What of it?," she snarled back at him, refusing to let him gain the upper hand this time.