Lilliana gazed at her reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall closest to the door, a wash basin resting directly underneath it.
She was having a difficult time looking upon herself. It was something she avoided on a daily basis. Her hair was hanging wet around her shoulders, while a hideous bruise stood out against her heated skin and bright blue eyes.
It was so noticeable that she outwardly cringed. What must Killian think of her? Of course, she wouldn't be his type. He claimed that he wanted his women older, but in reality, he was most likely sparing her feelings. He was too much of a gentleman to come right out and say that she simply wasn't pretty enough for him.
After all, he was the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on, the Prince included.
Lilliana had just stepped from the tub moments before where she'd spent the past half hour soaking beneath the steaming surface. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a real bath.
She only had access to a wash basin and the nearby creek that she would sometimes sneak off to while her father slept while in the midst of his drunken stupor from the night before. Lilliana allowed her eyes to drift towards the dress that laid over the nearby chair. Mr. Smee had brought it to her with haste before she allowed herself to undress within the unfamiliar quarters to bathe.
The soap had the surprising scent of vanilla considering men were the ships sole occupants. Perhaps they kept feminine supplies on board for when they entertained women? Lilliana was surprised to find that she was a bit envious of the women that Killian was sure to have entertained over his years at sea. Considering his commanding tone and relaxed ease while on the Jolly Roger, it was clear he's spent much more of his time on the ocean than on land.
It was hard to not notice the lone bed resting against the wall beneath a porthole that offered a glimpse of the outside. How many women has he shared that same bed with?
Lilliana let the towel that wrapped around her body fall to the floor in a heap at her feet. She felt the material of the dress beneath her fingers. It felt of pure silk with a few lace trimmings, the color was a plain white. Never in her existence had she ever touched anything so fine. She almost felt wrong for putting on such a garment.
There was no chemise to accompany the dress. It didn't matter, however. After all, the loose-fitting drab garments she wore on a daily basis were simply to clothe her body. They hung around her like a sack and did nothing to emphasize her figure. This, on the other hand, would do just that.
She slipped the material over her head, noting that it was a tad loose on her body. But she would never complain about being given something so fine.
A knock sounded on the door and Lilliana jumped around with a start, staring at the shadow she could make out through the fogged window on the other side. She held the back of her dress tightly closed within both hands to keep it from falling off her shoulders before offering entry.
"Come in," she called softly.
A wave of disappoint flooded her as Mr. Smee came bouncing through the door, carrying a tray of freshly made bread, pudding, and fish. "Don't you look like a vision, Miss. I hope you like Mackerel. It's the Capn's favorite. I'm afraid we have it at least three times a week when out to sea, and from what I gather, you're going to be a permanent fixture upon the Jolly Roger."
"It's fine, thank you," she offered despite never being the biggest fan of fish. She watched him sit the tray down on the small wooden table, lighting a candle in the middle to offer more light within the dim room despite it being early afternoon. She bit her lip, hesitating before inquiring about Killian. "And please, call me Lilliana. Will the Captain be joining me?"
Mr. Smee paused, averting his gaze. "The Captain is – indisposed at the moment. And you're his guest. 'Miss' is more appropriate."
"Indisposed?"
"We're still docked. He has business to attend to. People to see. That sort of thing. Can I help with your dress?" Mr. Smee spoke quickly as he tried to divert her thoughts to other things. Indisposed? It sounded like he was avoiding her. Lilliana mentally kicked herself. It was all her fault. She had asked him if his intentions were to marry her. That would frighten any man away, causing them to run faster than the Evil Queen's enemies.
She was inclined to tell him no, but she couldn't very well hold it closed the entire day. "Thank you," she said, turning around with an embarrassed flush. Mr. Smee seemed to hesitate a moment, sizing up how he was to approach the matter at hand. Lilliana had to steady herself several times as Mr. Smee tied her dress in a clumsy manner as he continued to chatter incessantly.
"Perhaps we can talk to the Captain about allowing a lady's maid to travel along with you."
"Killian's already done so much for me. I couldn't ask that of him. I've survived without a companion for my entire life, thus far."
"No disrespect, Miss, but I'm sure your old clothing did not require two people to put on."
"I can't argue with you about that."
"That should do it," he said, stepping away and towards the door in haste. "You better eat your meal before it gets cold. Welcome aboard, Miss. It will sure be a nice change to have a pretty face around, for once."
And with that, he was gone.
Lilliana sat down at the table to looked down at her meal which was heartier than what she was used to. There was no way she could finish such a feast, especially with her stomach in knots.
She once again touched the tender flesh on her skin. She didn't feel pretty. And Killian's rejection did nothing to assure her otherwise.
Killian lit the fire in the hearth. He took a moment to stare into its burning embers. He'd been reluctant to come back to his quarters. But the biting chill in the night air forced his hand, no pun intended.
He could have sent Mr. Smee back to light a fire for Lilliana, but Killian had already been avoiding her the entire day. It would become obvious if he never came back to his own cabin to sleep. And now here she was, standing next to the bed, wringing her hands in the white dress he had bought specifically for Milah.
He wasn't sure what he'd feel when he saw another woman wearing the dress that belonged to his dead lover. But it was impossible to deny her beauty. It was a bit big on her, but Killian knew that was because she was malnourished. Not starved, but thinner than she should be.
That would have to change.
Killian rose to his feet.
It didn't help that her supper plate of boiled potatoes, biscuits, and ham remained untouched. He picked up her glass of red wine that was not consumed and took a sip. It'd be a shame for everything to go to waste.
"Smee informed me that you never ate your meal from this afternoon, either? Are you feeling unwell?"
Sitting down gently on the bed behind her, she bit down on her delectable lip, causing it to become red and swollen. "I suppose."
Killian's brow knit together in concern. "Why didn't you say anything before now? Are you feeling sea sick before we've even left port? You're in for one hell of ride, my dear, if that's the case," he said, taking another sip of the wine.
"Are we departing?" she asked, her delicate hands grasping the bedding beneath her. For a moment, he remained transfixed by the anxious movement.
"Not quite," Killian said softly, pulling a chair closer to his new companion and swinging his leg over to sit down, crossing his arms over the back. "Are you sure you feel well enough? We have a doctor on board if you'd like him to look at you?"
"A doctor?" she inquired with surprise, gazing into Killian's eyes for the first time since he came back to the cabin.
"Aye, love," Killian said in assurance, suddenly transfixed once more. What was this little lass doing to him? "A balding old man with glasses that hang on the bridge of his nose. He walks a little funny…but he'll do in a pinch. I'd hate to be out to sea for months at a time, no doctor in sight."
"That's understandable," she nodded her head.
Killian tapped his fingers along the wooden back of his chair, sizing up his next words before speaking them. "I want you to know you have the freedom to do as you please – within reason, of course. As long as you're not putting yourself in harm's way. Much more freedom than you've ever had before, I assure you. But while I have you with me, you will eat your meals unless you're genuinely ill, is that understood?"
Lilliana's perfectly shaped eyebrows knitted together as she set her mouth in a firm line. For a moment, Killian thought she might have a back bone in that tiny body of hers yet, but just when he thought she was on the verge of defying his orders, she gave a defeated sigh, "yes, sir."
"Killian, love. The name's Killian."
"Yes, Killian."
"Good," he said, trying to hide the disappoint in his own voice. Maybe she needed a little time to become acclimated before speaking her mind. It was understandable, though he was used to women like Milah who immediately told him of her hopes, dreams, and desires, along with her countless dislikes.
This girl sitting before him couldn't be any different than his beloved Milah. They were the exact opposite of one another. While Milah had been as bright as the sun, adventurous and carefree (though she ached for leaving her son behind), Lilliana was burdened with a darkness consuming her. It was on the verge of extinguishing any light she may have remaining inside and Killian was determined from that moment on to bring the light forward and watch it burn bright.
But tonight was not the night for such endeavors. He needed to change the subject because he'd end up driving himself mad with such thoughts.
"I was hoping you'd be able to help me find someone, Lilliana."
This seemed to take her by surprise. "Me? Help you find someone? I'm not sure how much help I could be."
"Until a few hours ago, you did live in the Enchanted Forrest, did you not?"
"Well, yes," she said, shrugging a delicate shoulder. "But as you know, I never got out much."
The sadness in her voice was nearly his undoing. Killian tried to brush it off best he could, reminding himself that that life was no longer forced upon her.
"The Dark One," he blurted out.
Her enigmatic blue eyes widened in shock. "Rumpelstiltskin?"
"So, you have heard of him."
"Of course, I have. I'm fairly certain everyone in all of the realms has heard of him. What could you possibly want with someone like him?"
"I came here to find him," Killian answered, standing slowly before walking a few paces away, his back turned to his newest companion. "He took something from me a long time ago."
"I've heard terrible stories of him. Even speaking of him now is dangerous. They say he is all knowing and will trick you into making deals, taking all that you possess, and more. Whatever he took from you," Lilliana said, her voice desperate as she stood from her own spot and came forward. "Please, let it go."
"I can't do that, love," Killian relied in a whisper, turning his head slightly in response, though his back remained facing her.
The air stilled. He could still hear her breathing; the way it shook. It felt like a lifetime before she dared speak again.
"What did he take from you?"
Killian's jaw clenched, the muscles working feverishly. He contemplated saying anything. It wasn't her business. This wasn't her fight. But it had been so long since he's spoken about that day, that sometimes, he wondered if it had ever happened at all. But then he'd look down at his hook, and the reality would come rushing back, flooding his insides once more, the agony unbearable.
"He killed the only woman I'd ever loved right in front of me," Killian whispered, shocked at his own confession. He dared to look at Lilliana, not surprised to see the sadness and shock in those bright blue orbs as they pooled with fresh tears. "Only to turn around and cut off my hand moments later."