Chapter Twelve—Framed
The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, The Revenge
The sea, fifteen miles off the coast of Guilder
One day later
Caterina was chopping up fish in the galley when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was a strong hand, rough and calloused, and she stiffened because it was a hand she recognized. Antonio's hand; warm, rough, and pleading.
"I don't care about your scars, Caterina. They mean absolutely nothing to me."
She closed her eyes and put down the knife. His lips brushed against her ear.
An instant later, the hand dropped, and Antonio walked out of the galley.
Caterina picked up the knife and resumed her work, but as she sliced up the fish, her hands were shaking.
The Dread Pirate Roberts was sound asleep in his bed when Alejandro cracked open the cabin door and slipped inside. His blood was still boiling from what he had seen a few short days ago, from seeing Caterina's face attached to Antonio's—after Caterina had sworn to Alejandro that she hated Antonio! Alejandro cursed internally at the recollection of the image. He was a pirate, sure, but he still had a shred of honor. He'd told Caterina he couldn't sleep with another man's wife, and Caterina had then exposed their secret, and added that she loathed Antonio with an unholy passion. And then they'd had sex—they had slept together—and on more than one occaision, too! Alejandro sizzled at the memories. He had a right to Caterina by default, and she had still gone running off to Antonio!
Well, Antonio would be sorry he ever boarded The Revenge, Alejandro mused as he found what he needed and ducked out the room.
They were both going to be so, so sorry.
The next morning, Roberts gathered the whole crew abovedeck for a special meeting he claimed was of "the utmost importance", adding that anyone who refused to attend would be "cleaned and gutted like a fish, and then tossed out to the sharks." Everyone took the captain to be a man of his word; therefore, the deck was packed to the gills as the sun began its heavenly ascent.
Roberts stood high above them on the upper deck, his expression so icy, everyone shivered. "I have had something taken from me," he said gruffly. "A very important something, which I treasure to a high degree. I ask that whomever has taken it either step forward and confess or return the item to me, lest they find themselves dying a slow, painful death. Do I make myself clear?"
There was a general chorus of "aye, captain"s, and Roberts seemed satisfied enough. "If I have been clearly understood, as you all have just assured me, then everyone is now dismissed. I shall expect the item in question returned to me by sundown. You may resume your work."
Caterina stood beside Antonio, still uncertain of their relationship. Had he meant what he said in the galley? Once he saw her scars... would he still be able to look at her? Slowly, she stretched her fingers toward his. He caught them and intertwined them with his own. Their eyes met.
She wanted to ask him about his comment in the galley, but she couldn't find the words. "What do you think he's had stolen?"
Antonio shrugged. "Could be anything, really—perhaps something relatively worthless with some sentimental value?"
"You're telling me Roberts has any sentiment?"
"We're still alive, aren't we?"
He had a point there. It was only a matter of time before their luck ran out. Caterina pushed that thought aside. "What are you supposed to do today?"
"Take stock of our supplies. Want to help?"
Her answer was non-committal: "If Rosalina doesn't need me." She still wasn't sure how to handle their evolving relationship. I've never been comfortable with change. We need to slow down.
Antonio nodded. "Fine. I'll see you around, then." He pulled his hand free from hers and shuffled off to complete his mundane task, leaving Caterina alone with what remained of the crew.
Caterina hugged herself and began to look for Rosalina. He's trying so hard to make this work for both of us. Why am I so reluctant to help him?
Rosalina didn't end up needing Caterina for anything other than company. She talked her ear off for about two hours, the conversation topics ranging from romance to spirituality. Then, when she was satisfied that Caterina had listened for long enough, she released her with little more than a nod. "That's all for today, thank you."
Caterina was somewhat reluctant to leave her mistress' charge. Having used Rosalina as an excuse to avoid spending time with Antonio, she wasn't sure how she could get out of it now.
Antonio found her asleep on their bed. He sat down at her feet, and she turned over, groaning.
"Caterina."
"Go away."
"Where are they?"
Caterina sighed. "Where are what?"
"Your scars."
"I told you that already. Now please, leave me alone. I'm trying to take a nap."
Antonio persisted. "If you don't tell me where they are, Caterina, I won't believe you have any at all. I'll think you're lying."
"Stomach. Thighs. Didn't I say that already?"
"If that were the case, you wouldn't have slept with Alejandro."
She swore and rose from the bed. "What do you want with me? Why can't you just—"
"I want some honesty for a change. How are we supposed to survive if we can't even trust each other?" He took a step towards her, arms outstretched. "I am more than willing to understand whatever explanation you give me. All I ask is that you do give me an explanation."
Caterina's lips quivered. She avoided eye contact and walked over to the dresser. The drawer slid open smoothly, revealing her hiding place. Her fingers leapt to the knife, wrapped around the hilt, and lifted it. "My father gave me this knife when I turned thirteen. He... wanted me to have it in case... in case any boy in Sicily gave me... trouble." She held the knife out to Antonio.
He took it, fingering the edge of the blade. "You've been using this to cut yourself?"
"Not anymore. I... after Solanio—" The air hitched in her throat. She swallowed. "After Solanio was murdered, I tried to kill myself." For the first time, she reached for him. He took her into his arms, sliding his hands down to meet hers. As he did so, he noticed a curious ripple in the flesh of her wrists.
He inhaled sharply. "Oh, bella... you're not telling me..."
Caterina nodded and began to cry. She leaned against his chest as she sobbed, allowing him to hold her for as long as she deemed necessary. The silence trickled past them. At last, Caterina pulled away just enough to look into Antonio's eyes. "God... I love you. I love you so much, and it scares me out of my mind."
"I know."
She sniffed, hating to cry so much in front of him. She hated exposing herself, baring her soul, when she wasn't even sure... "Antonio, what happens next?" I shouldn't be saying this... but I have to know.
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean, what... what's going to change when we get off this ship?" Her voice shook. Will you still care about me? Will you still protect me? Will you still love me, even when our lives no longer depend on our relationship?
He bit his lip. "I don't know." Tension coiled in the air like spent smoke. "I... I wish I could give you an answer, but..." Antonio stroked her hair. "Bella, mio amore... I just don't know."
"Will you still love me?"
A beat. The question was considered.
"Antonio?"
"Of course."
They spent the rest of the afternoon in that room, sitting on the bed, holding each other, and wondering about the future.
In the middle of the galley at dinner that evening, Alejandro announced that he'd discovered something interesting in the dresser in Antonio and Caterina's cabin. He added that this something was the same something that Roberts was so adamant about finding.
Roberts rose at once and his chair scraped against the deck. "Alejandro, you will not disclose the identity of this alleged 'something' except in the privacy of my own quarters."
It wasn't a question. Alejandro nodded and followed the captain out of the room, smirking as he passed Antonio.
Caterina exchanged glances with her companion. "What's he talking about?"
"How am I supposed to know? I didn't steal anything from Roberts."
"Well, neither did I."
"He'll gut ye both for sure," said a sailor on their left. "Whatever you took, he's got a strong likin' to, and you're going to pay dearly for stealin' it."
Antonio reached for Caterina's hand beneath the table. She gave it to him. The pressure of their intertwined fingers was a welcome sensation and a slight release of the tension twisted inside of them.
They were just about to kiss when Roberts reentered. Alejandro was nowhere to be found. The captain looked Antonio dead in the eye as he spoke, but his words addressed Caterina as well.
"Neither of you," he said after a significant pause, "is welcome on my ship after this inconsiderate betrayal."
There was a snap of his fingers, and pirates seized Caterina and dragged her out of the galley. Antonio tried to fight them off, but there were too many for him to handle, and he, too, was carried out to the main deck. They swore in Italian and demanded an explanation for the sudden rough treatment.
"I'm the Dread Pirate Roberts," their host answered as he stood enraged before them. "And as you may or may not have heard... the Dread Pirate Roberts takes no prisoners."
Caterina and Antonio shared looks of unparalleled fear.
There was nothing they could do to save themselves now.
