Hello once again! I want to thank Addicted_to_GazettE for betareading this chapter, and also one of my new friends on discord who's helping me work on my portrayal of angst~ For anyone who was like "Man, I sure can't get enough of the slave arc!" (a.k.a: no one) I made some large edits to chapter 3 this week. Since I have a huge essay due next week and I'm a terrible person who has slacked off for months on this, there MAY not be a chapter ready next week. We'll see.

Please review and let me know how I did!

When Thalia awoke, she lay in bed for a long time, willing herself to fall back asleep, but unconsciousness refused to return. She finally opened her eyes, irritated. Her dreams had been filled with pleasant, vivid imagery. Reality was disappointing in comparison. She sat up and stretched out her stiff body, looking around. The room was dark, the only light provided by moonlight penetrating through a small window.

She felt something wrapped around her head and reached up to touch it. It was a bandage, she remembered as she ran her fingers along the soft gauze. Her fingers tenderly tested the back of her head. She hissed as they elicited a sharp pain. She had definitely hit her head on something. Her hand cradled her forehead as she willed herself to remember what had happened. The fragments of a memory drifted to the surface. She had been talking to Masrur and Sharrkan. Then there was a lamp and she was on a table. She'd fallen and Captain Reis had taken her to Sinbad. Then, she'd fallen asleep in her friend's bunk.

She groaned quietly, careful not to wake her fellow snoring passengers. She still didn't feel like her thoughts were entirely unscrambled.

Lighting a lamp, she climbed up the ladder to peek in her bunk. In it was Sinbad, hugging her pillow. She briefly felt guilty for kicking him out of his bed, but he looked comfortable enough to ease her conscience. She checked Mystras's bed next. He was one of the snorers, splayed across his bed and out cold. Ja'far was sleeping on his stomach, one arm hanging off the bed. His eyebrow twitched in irritation as he muttered something about the ledgers. Thalia sighed, shaking her head. He even worked in his sleep.

Next, she peeked in Masrur and Sharrkan's bunks. Masrur had kicked off his covers at some point during the night. She gently tucked him back in. His eyes locked on her immediately.

Thalia pursed her lips. She hadn't meant to wake him up. It made sense that he would be a light sleeper, though. His hearing seemed to be better than most. She guessed he was wondering if she was okay after her head injury.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "Go back to sleep."

He closed his eyes, apparently satisfied with her answer.

Thalia already knew that she wouldn't find Drakon and Hinahoho in here. They usually slept on the deck or down in the hull where there was more room because the beds were so cramped. In the next row of bunks, occupied mainly by sailors. Ravi was asleep hugging a book next to his chest, but the bunk above him, Nasha's bunk, was empty.

She wandered outside, where the night crew had busied themselves working the ship, to look for him. Her eyes scanned the deck, resting on a lone sailor hunched the table with a mug of beer. His long red hair gave away his identity even from behind. Sliding into the seat next to him, she noted his red-rimmed eyes.

"Hey, Nasha. Are you okay?"

Nasha whipped his head in her direction. His eyes lingered on her bandages as a dumbfounded expression fell over his face.

"What's on your head?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Don't I look like Mystras?" Thalia giggled, flipping her hair over her shoulders.

"Are those bandages? Did you get hurt?" He reached toward her, then stopped, perhaps remembering the scolding she'd given him last time he'd touched her unexpectedly.

"I just bumped my head a little." She motioned as though she were hitting herself on the head to emphasize her words.

Nasha crumpled in relief.

"God. You're such a clutz."

"I am," she agreed. "I'm a walking safety hazard."

"Fuck, Thalia." He returned his gaze to his glass of beer. "I thought you were going to die and it was my fault."

"Why would it be your fault? I just fell off a table."

Nasha drew back incredulously, his grip tightening around the stem of his glass.

"You don't remember?"

"Remember what?" she frowned. Why was he being so cryptic? She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to think of what she could be forgetting. She had fallen off the table, then Captain Reis had picked her up to bring her to her friends. No, that wasn't right. It had made sense to her at the time, but looking back on it now, he had been behaving strangely.

"Why was Captain Reis carrying me? Where was he going?" Thalia asked.

Nasha's forehead now had a sheen of sweat. He wiped it off with his sleeve.

"He wanted to throw you overboard, Thalia."

She blinked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She had been in danger and hadn't even realized it. The thought left her uneasy.

She turned to Nasha. The poor boy was now drenched in sweat. Forgetting her own discomfort, she reached out to him, touching his wrist to comfort him.

"Captain Reis was incurably superstitious," she told him softly. "How could that be your fault?"

Nasha took a large swig out of his mug before answering.

"I kind of spread the rumor we were sleeping together. I think the old coot caught whiff of it, and that combined with the storm set off his paranoia."

Thalia immediately withdrew her hand from his wrist, her demeanor changing instantly.

"You what?" She inhaled sharply, the throbbing pain in the back of her head returning.

She was furious. It was one thing for other people to start baseless rumors about her because she shared a room with one of her guy friends, but for one of her guy friends to be the source of the baseless rumor?

Nasha turned to face her, his eyes bright with unshed tears. They only infuriated her more. He wasn't the one who'd nearly been killed over a rumor that he had spread.

"You really are a princess, aren't you?" He worded it like a question, but it wasn't. He knew the answer. He must have known it for a while. Was that why he'd been so nice to her recently?

He continued, "So, I lied. Sleeping with a princess? How badass would that be? But I never meant to nearly get you killed."

Thalia grabbed his mug, taking a swig before choking on the taste. She had hoped to drown out the disappointment and anger she was feeling over Nasha's betrayal, the same way her mother used to do. It seemed she was going to have to torture herself to do so.

. "Why?" Thalia asked after she stopped coughing.

He shrugged. "I just wanted to boost my report with the rest of the crew."

"So you used me," she confirmed.

"Yep."

She took another gulp of the horrible liquid. How long would she have to keep this up to feel numb?

"Go tell the truth, Nasha. Tell them you lied."

He shook his head. "No way. I can't."

She straightened her back, trying to look threatening. "If you value our friendship, you can."

"I saved your life!" he shouted, throwing his hand on his chest. "Shouldn't that count for something?"

Thalia chugged as much of the the beer as she could before Nasha swiped it from her.

"Go easy on that stuff, will you?" he growled. "You're not used to it."

"You don't get to tell me what to do, traitor," she spat in response. "I thought you were better than this."

"I told you not to trust me," he said quietly, looking in his lap.

She stiffened as the reality of their crumbling friendship struck her. He wasn't going to take responsibility for what he had done at all. Salvaging their relationship was a lost cause. Standing up, she turned her back on him, heading back into the crew's quarters.

"Thalia, wait!" He called out after her. She ignored him, refusing to look back. She was afraid if she did, she would lose her resolve. She was never going to forgive him.

Sinbad's heart raced. He was on Ria Venus Island in the punishment room, chained to a wall as his flesh burned and shredded with every jab of an iron or lash of a cane. The figure administering the punishment towered above him, his skin a sickly green hue. Lady Maader stood in the background, skin ashen, black acid dripping from her mouth as she howled with laughter at every cry of pain pain.

He looked around. The only person who could save him was nowhere to be seen. He called out for her, but she didn't come. Another blow from the cane sent him limp. Maybe she wasn't coming this time. After all, there were so many times she had never shown up, leaving him to the mercy of that vile woman. Maybe she'd finally given up on him. Maybe she was never coming again.

The tall, sickly figure dropped the can and pulled out a pair of pliers. Sinbad's body went regid, recognizing what they were for. The man was going to pry off Sinbad's fingernails one by one. He worked out the will to struggle once again as the pliers lodged themselves into the bed of his pinky nail. He readied to scream.

Then her voice came.

"Sinbad," she whispered. He looked up and there she was, reaching out to him in invitation. The phantoms fled at the sight of her, their faces contorting into rage before they vanished from the room. Now, it was just the two of them. As she walked toward him, the world rippled, the punishment room transforming into their secret corner. The flowers in the garden released their scent into the gentle wind that tousled her hair, laced with white heather. Her lips parted into a serene smile to assure him he was safe now. He reached out with his freshly scarred arms and pulled her to him, clinging to her like a vine to a cedar tree.

"You finally came," he whispered into her hair. "I thought you'd never come."

"Sin, you're having a bad dream." She pawed at his shoulder, shaking him.

He shook his head. "Not anymore."

He couldn't have a bad dream with Thalia in it. She was the guardian of pleasant dreams, chasing away his nightmares and replacing them with this surreally beautiful landscape of her creation. The first time she had appeared like this had been in Heliohapt, when they had shared a bed together. Since then, she had begun to occasionally disrupt his nightmares, always bringing him back to their secret corner. Here, his senses were capable of perceiving things in more detail than in the waking world. Here, he could talk to her about anything.

"Wake up," she pleaded. "I need to talk to you."

Something wasn't right. He was right here. There was no reason dream Thalia couldn't talk to him, unless…

His eyes snapped open, the object of his dreams startlingly close to his face. The Thalia in his dream had been mouthing the words of the real Thalia, who was currently struggling against his vice-like embrace.

"Thalia? What are you…?" he trailed off, too stunned to finish his sentence.

He sheepishly let her go, hoping he hadn't frightened her.

Sitting up, he studied her. She was a far cry from the angel that had been comforting him in his dream. Her hair was matted, she hadn't bathed in days, and a bandage wound around her head, a reminder of his inability to protect her.

But she was the real thing, and she was finally awake. That made her a thousand times more beautiful to him than the image he'd conjured in his dream. He didn't complain that she had woken him up. He was glad she had. The last two days, he'd been worried incessantly, even as he assured the others she would be fine. Now, he wouldn't have to worry anymore.

"What did you need to talk about?" he asked quietly, careful not to wake anyone else up.

In response, she pursed her lips and clambered down the ladder. He took that as a sign she wanted to speak outside.

He followed her, paying close attention to each step as he climbed down from his bunk. He was still half-asleep and his sense of balance had yet to return to him. She guided him outside, tugging on his hand silently and leading him to a quiet corner. The splashing of the waves against the side of the boat and the salty air enveloped him, making him feel at ease. His eyes began to drift shut again before he remembered why he was out here. He looked to Thalia, her arms crossed in front of her defensively.

He sighed. She'd just woken up. How could she already be angry?

Her dark eyes flashed furiously in the moonlight. "You knew, didn't you?"

He yawned, his long hair falling over his shoulder. He had no idea what she was talking about.

"Knew what?" he asked. "What time is it?"

He was happy to see her, but couldn't she wait until after he woke up to talk about unpleasant things?

"I don't care what time it is," she hissed. "You knew Nasha was telling people I was sleeping with him. You didn't tell me."

So that's why she was mad. He had been sure to order everyone to stay quiet about those rumors, so who could have possibly…?

He grimaced. "You found out about that. Who told you?"

She practically growled. "Nasha. But you know what sucks? That I had to find out from him because my best friend thinks I can't handle a little gossip."

"I was trying to protect you," he responded defensively.

"If I'm going to become queen of Attica, I'm going to have to deal with a lot more than some idiot claiming he's been sleeping with me. Besides, you said we were a team. 'No more secrets'."

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. When he said no more secrets, he had meant on her end. She abused her silence, keeping things hidden away until she exploded. He was different. He had kept the secret to protect her. Though, in all fairness, she did have a point about what she would have to deal with as queen. Maybe he had been overprotective. He decided to concede.

"I did say that. I'm sorry. What do you want me to do about him?"

She blanched at his question, as though she hadn't expected him to give her that sort of power over Nasha's fate.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" As angry as she seemed to be, Sinbad would have thought she already had several punishments lined up.

"Can you make him walk the plank? Maroon him on a desert island?"

"Those are good ideas." Her suggestions brought a grin to his face. She must have read about those kinds of punishments in one of her books. They were sailor punishments, reserved only for severe crimes. He listed a couple of more reasonable punishments to consider. "I can also have him swab the decks or demote him to cabin boy."

"Can't you just fire him?"

A bit of a pout creeped into her features. If she weren't practically an adult, it might have worked, but as things stood, he wasn't about to give in to her wide-eyed plea.

"I can't fire him, Thalia. It's not my ship. Though, we certainly won't be contracting with Captain Reis again."

"Okay, but hear me out." Thalia proposed. "What if we put him on a lifeboat with enough food and water to last him to Balbadd,"

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "You're just going to have to put up with him until we dock. Besides, if he got lost or something happened, you'd never forgive yourself. You're not a killer."

"What I don't know won't hurt me," she huffed. Sinbad ruffled her hair. She knew he was right. She tapped her foot, thinking. "Make him act as the cabin boy. He'll hate that. All he cares about is his position and what others think of him, so if you demote him to the lowest position on the ship, that will get to him."

Sinbad nodded approvingly. "It seems two days rest was enough to unscramble your head."

Thalia blanched. "I was asleep for two days?"

Sinbad nodded slowly, recounting the ordeal they had gone through to care for her, "We tried to wake you up for meals, but you whined and told us to go away."

"That doesn't sound like me at all," she said wryly. He imagined she knew that sounded exactly like something she would do.

"You had us worried sick. Be sure to get something on your stomach, okay? I'm glad you're feeling better."

When he finished lecturing her, he sighed. Now he was fully awake, and he couldn't see himself falling back asleep any time soon. He glanced at his best friend beside him and grinned. It had been a long two days without her. He had a lot of steam to blow off.

"Care to keep me company for a few drinks?"

Thalia crossed her arms again, her expression souring.

"I don't want to sit on the floor, and Nasha's hogging the table. There's no way I'm getting near him."

His lips twitched. Seeing her finally avoid that jerk was gratifying beyond his expectations.

"I'll take care of him," he assured her. "You just come with me."

She clung to his wrist, stumbling slightly as they approached the table with the lone sailor. Sinbad frowned. He was positive she'd been perfectly capable of walking when she led him outside a few minutes ago.

He paused, turning around and putting his nose close to her mouth.

"Wha— what are you doing?" she stammered, stumbling backward.

Her breath reeked of alcohol.

"Have you been drinking?" he asked, incredulous. Since when did Thalia drink? He had only seen her touch a drink once, and that time she had hated the taste so much, she never touched it again.

"I'm not drunk," she asserted, poking his nose. "See? Bullseye."

"That was the least convincing argument you could have possibly given," Sinbad groaned, pulling her hand away from his face. "You do get points for coordination."

"That's because I'm not drunk."

He made a small tutting noise. "That's exactly what a drunk person would say."

Placing her hands on her cheeks, she sighed, "I feel really good."

"I bet you do," he agreed, leading her the rest of the way to the table. He slammed his hand on the wood, startling Nasha out of his stupor.

"Did she eat?" Sinbad demanded.

"I… I don't know. She just came up and started talking…"

Sinbad turned to Thalia.

"Tell me you didn't drink on an empty stomach."

"You want me to lie?" she giggled. Sinbad rolled his eyes. She should know better, having a great role model like him around.

"She didn't drink much," Nasha quickly assured him. "I didn't let her."

"You did one thing right," Sinbad conceded."Do you mind leaving us? Thalia's a little upset with you."

"It's not a little," she hissed loudly from behind him, tugging on his arm.

Nasha peered around him. "Thalia, come on. Be mature about this. Let's talk—"

"She's in no condition to talk," Sinbad interrupted him.

Nasha rose, banging his hand on the table. "You're going to try to tell her who she can talk to now? I've never seen anyone so desperate to get laid. You drag her around like some rag doll hoping she'll come around. The only difference between you and me is you still have the gall to pretend you're a decent guy. I embrace what I am—"

Thalia's grip tightened around his wrist.

"All you do is say you're an asshole to avoid responsibility," she hiccupped, more unsteady than before. Sinbad pulled her against his side for support, and she continued, "Sin's not like that. He would never use me like you did."

"Nasha, she just woke up from a head injury. She's angry at you. Standing will tire her out, and being around you will only upset her. Be reasonable. Let us have the table."

Nasha glared at him for a moment before begrudgingly vacating his seat.

"We're going to talk sooner or later, Thalia," he spat before wandering off.

"Like hell," she grumbled under her breath.

Sinbad felt a well of pride. He imagined when they first met almost three years ago, she wouldn't have been nearly as ready to stand her ground. She'd flourished ever since coming to the company.

"I'm going to get some snacks," he told her, helping her sit. "Wait here, okay?"

She reluctantly released him, clearly biting back complaints at being abandoned. He chuckled. So she was a clingy drunk.

As Sinbad left Thalia to fetch something for the two of them to eat, he couldn't shake the feeling that the drama between Thalia and Nasha wasn't over. Sinbad had a distinct feeling Nasha's predatory behavior toward the only girl on the ship stemmed from an inferiority complex. Thalia's decision for his punishment certainly would get under his skin, but for that reason, Sinbad expected Nasha to retaliate somehow.

He would have to tell Ja'far to keep an eye on Nasha for the remainder of the voyage.