Chapter 10

Elizabeth's mind swam with information, and it was only the first day. Their teacher, Professor Turner, droned on and on about the rise of the first markets and the creation of the first currencies, and while Elizabeth perfectly heard him clearly understood him, and could have recited his lines while asleep, her head pounded.

Perhaps she shouldn't have drank too much last night.

She glanced to the seat on her right, where Warspite sat straight, scribbling on her notebook just as fast as Professor Turner was speaking. How her sister's mind could remain clear despite downing almost half of the bottle, Elizabeth didn't know. Part of their inhuman constitution, perhaps. Though if that were the case, Valiant wouldn't still be snoring on her bed.

With a sigh, Elizabeth returned her attention to Mr. Turner. At least she could still think clearly. She would have waited for her birthday next month, but finishing Freshers Week warranted a celebration of its own.

They were finally going to study. That much deserved a tiny party, just her and her sisters. The start of their new lives as official students of King's College London. And even if it seemed like a barrage oof 15-inch shells were exploding inside her skull, the fun they had had was certainly worth it.

Besides, the concepts were easy to understand. And while Professor Turner was firing words faster than a machine gun, she could still understand him.

The lecture ended two hours later. The next one wouldn't start for another thirty minutes, but she had woken quite late, and where did she just put her stupid textbook?

"Sister?" Warspite asked as she was about to stand up. Elizabeth briefly glanced at her.

"My textbook for marketing," she grumbled, "I think I forgot it." She rummaged inside, but the red paperbound book was truly nowhere to be found.

"Do you need mine?" Warspite started opening her own bag. "We can read together and—"

Elizabeth shook her head, closed the zipper, and slung it over her shoulder. She stood up. "You go ahead and wait for me. I'll go back to my room and check if it's in there." And if Valiant had already gotten up.

"All right," Warspite said.

Running in the hallways was prohibited, so Elizabeth maintained a brisk pace. Crossing the lobby in under three minutes, she found herself outside the campus beneath a pleasant autumn noon.

Halfway across the street, her neck prickled.

She whirled around, eyes scanning the crowd behind her. The traffic lights blazed with red, the cars at a standstill. Typical London street on a weekday. There was no commotion, no incoming block of steel falling from a great height.

So what was that she felt just now? Uneasiness clawed at her stomach, but she turned around and resumed her walk. Twenty minutes until her next class. She could make it.

By the time Elizabeth reached Sunny Lodge, the uneasiness had subsided. Still, she kept glancing over her shoulders. Entering the building completely eradicated the feeling, much to her relief.

Valiant, thankfully, was no longer in her room when Elizabeth knocked. The textbook was sitting on the table. Elizabeth sighed in relief as she slipped it inside her bag. Next time, she wouldn't drink a day before class.

Her return to the campus was uneventful, and she arrived ten minutes earlier. "I did forget it," she told Warspite with a sigh, taking a seat next to her sister.

The lecture was just as brutal as the first, but her head was much clearer thanks to the aspirin she had taken. By lunch the throbbing had already subsided, and she happily ate her shepherd's pie.

"Do you still got any aspirin?" Valiant mumbled, cradling her head. "My brain feels like it's going to explode."

Warspite sighed. "We told you not to drink too much. "

"You drank more than I did."

"I have higher tolerance, I believe."

"Here," Elizabeth said, handing Valiant the bottle. She mumbled her thanks, poured three pills into her mouth, and returned it to her.

Eating at the campus was like having a food tour. There were several shops and cafés, each with their own unique selections of food and beverages. The café they had chosen specialized in pies and cakes.

Apparently, it was popular among the students, and not just from Strand Campus. Glancing around at the cozy interior, she could see quite a few patrons from Waterloo and St. Thomas. Most, of course, were her schoolmates.

Two tables to the left, Evans waved cheerily.

Elizabeth almost spat her food. She swallowed, cursing, then scowled. What is that boy doing here? Warspite followed her gaze. "Oh, isn't that—"

"Don't look at him," she snapped. Her sister frowned, but obeyed and kept her focus on her food.

If Elizabeth didn't know any better, she would think Evans was stalking her. But that was absurd; he had just probably chosen the nearest café like they did. They barely knew each other, after all. If she ignore him, he would go away.

"Hi," Evans said, standing to her left with a smile.

Of course. "What do you want?" she asked without looking.

"May I take a seat?"

Warspite nodded eagerly. Valiant was still cradling her head, but she was aware enough to watch from under her bangs. Elizabeth sighed. It would be rude to reject an innocent request, would it?

"Be my guest." She heard the chair being moved, and it took all of her willpower not to retract her statement. He was just taking a seat, she reminded herself. She didn't have to speak or even look at him.

As he sat down, she heard him say, "So, Edith? That's your name, right?"

Warspite glanced at Elizabeth, a silent question. Elizabeth nodded then took another bite of her food. "Yes. What brings you here, Mr. Evans?"

"It's okay. Just call me Evans." He chuckled, a warm sound in Elizabeth's ears. "Calling me 'Mister' makes me sound old. I'm only 21."

"Ah, apologies for that."

He looked at her curiously. His gaze shifted to Valiant, who barely took notice of him. "Is your hair dyed?" he asked.

"Yes," was Valiant's only reply. Cradling her head with one hand, she speared a slice of waffle.

Evans watched her in fascination for a moment. Drake had warned them that their natural hair color, or at least Valiant's might attract unwanted attention. But perhaps there was nothing to worry about. Evans soon lost interest and transferred his gaze back to Elizabeth.

"You didn't join the pub crawl?"

"If you didn't see me or my sisters, then obviously we didn't."

He fell silent. Elizabeth hid her smirk by propping her chin on her palm. Good, that should convinced him that talking to her would be a waste of time. She didn't want to be rude, certainly, but it was getting annoying how he was always nearby.

She caught Warspite shaking her head, her expression disapproving. Elizabeth blinked, but ignored her and continued eating. No, she wouldn't entertain the boy. He wasn't even interesting

Evans spoke again. "So, why are you taking Business Management?"

"To manage a business."

To her surprise, he chuckled again. "Of course. To manage a business. What kind of business?"

Elizabeth chewed slowly before answering, "A restaurant, perhaps. Maybe a hotel too." She wanted to gain experience first, of course, so she was thinking of getting a job at a luxurious hotel after graduation. Somewhere near the estate.

He seemed to take interest in that. "What a coincidence. I also want to handle a hotel."

She sighed, and stared at him flatly. "Are you doing this to impress me? Because I'm not impressed."

"Uh—"

"What's next? You're part of the swim club? A chess player?" Her temper was rising, but she was glad that her voice remained calm. The last thing she wanted was a scandal. Her sisters stared at her, flabbergasted.

"As a matter of fact, I play chess," he admitted sheepishly.

Elizabeth stood up abruptly, grabbing her bag and shouldering it. "Edith, Valerie, we're leaving." She didn't want to eat anymore, and she most definitely didn't want to eat on the same table as him.

"I'm still eating!" Valiant protested.

"You can eat later." Preferably when no one was there to bother them.

Evans raised his hands in a placating manner. "Hey, it's all right. I'm leaving. See?" He stood up and backed away as amusement danced in his eyes. "Relax, all right? I'm leaving."

She didn't relax until he was outside the café. And even then she waited for a few more seconds before sitting back down with a scowl, dropping her bag to the floor.

"That was rude of you," Warspite admonished with a frown.

"He was getting rude." She stabbed the pie with a growl.

"He just wants to talk. To get to know us. Didn't you say forging bonds is important?"

She did. And perhaps it was a mistake to say that. What would happen if people discovered who they really were? Even just Valiant keeping her hair in its original color was risky enough.

"We will act naturally," Elizabeth said, "but that doesn't mean we'll entertain everyone who comes to us. End of discussion."

"But—"

"End of discussion, Edith." She fixed Warspite with a firm look. With a sigh, her sister fell silent at last.

And that was the end of the discussion.

###

The following days were a blur of studying.

Business management, Elizabeth realized, was a lot more complex than even the most complicated military operations. While it did share similarities—the need to possess critical thinking and good leadership skills, the ability to assess people—there were still a lot of other nuances where her knowledge and experience just didn't fit.

History did play a part to make things easier, especially the economy of the past and the stories her crew often spoke about. But it still couldn't prepare her for the information dump and complexities she was being subjected to since her first day. Even Valiant was starting to complain.

In the meantime, all of them had followed the rule: no talking with other people unless necessary, no interactions save for those related to academics. And when the letters came informing them that they were qualified to join the swim club, Elizabeth called for a meeting in her kitchen.

"I won't join, but you're both free to do so," she told her sisters during lunch on their first Sunday in London.

Warspite and Valiant exchanged glances. "We can join but we can't make friends?" Valiant asked slowly.

"I didn't say you couldn't make friends," Elizabeth huffed. "I said you shouldn't talk to people unless absolutely necessary."

"That's the same thing, sister."

Elizabeth glared at her, which Valiant returned in kind. She was fine with social interactions, but it was better to be safe than regret things in the end. And Valiant was prone to rambling about her achievements, past or present. "I'm just saying we should be careful," Elizabeth said. "We're in London, far away from Noah and the others. If something happens, they won't reach us swiftly."

"It's just less than a two-hour drive," Valiant reminded her. "Besides, what are you afraid of? No one knows about us except for our family and a few friends."

"Exactly why we need few friends," Elizabeth snapped, her temper rising. She didn't tell them about her feeling of being watched on their first day of school. It didn't repeat, and she could have passed it off as simply her imagination, but she was certain it was real.

Warspite raised a hand to placate her. "All right, calm down." Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Sister, we understand what you mean. But Val is right, there's nothing to be afraid of here. We're safe."

Elizabeth wished she could believe Warspite. Noah had said they should enjoy being a human—that she should live life as a human. And she wanted to. Being a human was wonderful; life was wonderful.

But they weren't humans—Drake was adamant on that. No human possessed strength equal to ten or even twenty people. No human could live for decades and not look a day older, or survived a ton of steel block falling on top of them.

"We should act normally," Warspite continued. "And it doesn't mean we won't be careful."

"Only this week you were telling Valiant to avoid attracting attention," Elizabeth countered.

"I did. And we're still doing that. But we needn't have to be reclusive. That would just make people more curious."

Like Evans. Elizabeth chewed her lip in contemplation. She supposed Warspite was right, and perhaps she was being too hard on herself and her sisters. And rude to those who genuinely wanted to befriend them. They would stay in London for four years; they would have to make friends at some point, especially once they started searching for jobs.

Forging bonds, eh? "All right," she said with a sigh. "We'll make friends."

###

That night, Noah called.

As the phone rang, Elizabeth bounded after it. "Good evening, Noah!" she greeted cheerfully.

There was an explosive cough on the other end that lasted for several seconds, and she frowned. Finally, Noah cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"Are you all right? That sounded bad." She glanced at Warspite and Valiant, who were both leaning in to listen.

"Yes, yes. Just a scratchy throat." He coughed again, softer this time, which quickly subsided. "I'm all right. So how was your first two weeks?"

"Good," she said, then launched into a brief summary of the Freshers Week and her studies. The last time they had talked was two days before their departure for London—more than two weeks ago. Elizabeth wanted to say more than her abridged tale, but Warspite and Valiant were waiting for their turns.

"You'll get used to it," Noah said when she finished. "It will take some time, but you'll find studying in a university to be quite an experience."

"I hope so." She sighed. "It's only the first week, but I feel like going back already. I miss Elisa's cooking!"

"We all do," Warspite piped in.

Noah chuckled. "London food isn't that bad."

"No, but it's expensive," Elizabeth grumbled. Noah chuckled again.

"I'll ask Elisa if she could prepare some for you and your sisters. I shan't be free until next month, so I'll probably send Brian over."

Elizabeth glanced at her sisters. Warspite's eyes were shining, and Elizabeth could swear Valiant was drooling. She smiled. "We would love that."

There was a pause. Papers shuffled. Another Sunday without rest for Noah, she lamented silently. "The others are going to a university soon. Not London. I found one in Hampshire."

She perked up at that. "Oh. What did Franceska say?"

"She's fine with it. She's actually the one who recommended the university. But…" He sighed. "I suggested that you should all study under the same school. She disagreed."

Elizabeth could understand why, and she was glad that she wasn't the only one who thought the same. "She means well. The universities here in London are expensive."

"I know."

"Did you find anyone else?" Elizabeth tried to keep her words as vague as possible. While she didn't want to overthink, Noah had warned them to never speak of anything pertaining to their true identities, especially on a phone.

"No."

She fell silent. Somehow, she wasn't disappointed. Having more ships in his care meant more burden for Noah; burdens he shouldn't have to carry alone. More secrets that had to remain secrets, which could spill quickly if they weren't careful.

"I'm certain everything will turn out well," she reassured him.

"I hope so." His tone shifted into a lighter one. "Are you making friends?"

Elizabeth groaned at the question she had been dreading. Before she could answer, though, Valiant snatched the phone from her hands and said, "Oh, yes! My sister is making so much friends."

Longer than she had to, Valiant told Noah about the people they had met and befriended, all the places they had visited. She finished with: "And there's this bo—OW!"

Snatching the phone back from her wonderful sister, who was rubbing her head and glaring at her, Elizabeth cleared her throat. "We're good, yes. All the people here are great."

"Is that so?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice. Perhaps Noah could detect the hesitation in her voice. Elizabeth wouldn't put it past him; her brother was a Rear-Admiral, after all.

It was Warspite's turn next, which was shorter. Thankfully, she didn't say anything strange, as befitting of a good sister. She handed the phone back to Elizabeth.

"And there you have it. Our first two weeks here in London," she said.

"An eventful two weeks." Noah coughed again.

"Are you certain you're well?" It sounded really bad. "Have you went to a doctor already?"

There was a sigh. "I'm fine, Elizabeth. I've had worse than this."

She didn't doubt that, but she also knew how dedicated Noah could be in his duty sometimes. "If you say so. But we should probably stop now. It's getting late."

"It's Monday tomorrow, I know."

"Don't remind me," she grumbled.

###

By the third week, Elizabeth had more or less settled into a daily routine.

She would wake up at six in the morning, and depending on the day, she would prepare breakfast for all three of them or help either Warspite or Valiant cook. The food was always delicious, and she often set aside leftovers for when they were too busy to eat outside.

After breakfast, she would spend most of the day attending classes or doing some research or other, often with Warspite. Scouring the library for information was fun, despite the stress and headaches that came with it. And while the nights were often spent scribbling notes, Elizabeth tackled her assignments the same way her captains did their naval operations—with the resolve to finish it with the best results possible.

The fourth week rolled. Elizabeth kept her word to her sisters; she interacted with people whenever they talked to her, smiling whenever they commented how pretty she looked, laughing at some random jest or comment, eating together if they invited her. Often her sisters would join, but there were times when they would go their separate ways, either to attend to other commitments or more assignments and research.

Warspite joined the swim club and seemed to enjoy her time with her new friends. Her eyes twinkled merrily whenever Elizabeth saw her with them, and though there was a pang of jealousy, she was happy for her. Valiant as well, who often sat on a different table with her study group, of which she was the apparent head. Despite being the youngest, they looked to her with respect, especially whenever she was discussing an idea she had thought of.

It could get lonely sometimes, especially whenever their schedules don't match, but it wasn't too different when they were warships, when their destiny was dictated by humans. Now they were together, and they could follow their hearts' desires without being separated from each other.

The night of their fifth Sunday, they slept together in Elizabeth's room. It was against the rules, but Elizabeth told her sisters to lock their doors. That way, anyone knocking in the morning would think they were still asleep.

They laid down the mattresses in Elizabeth's living room. It was a tight fit, so they would sleep next to each other, but Elizabeth didn't mind. It had been a month since they slept together.

"Stop squirming so much," Valiant grumbled as Warspite settled next to her, forcing her to scoot closer to the couch.

As Warspite fluffed up her pillows, Elizabeth glanced at the book Valiant was reading. The cover was that of a garden in full bloom, and a man and a woman staring at each other. She snickered. "I didn't know they are teaching economics with romance novels now."

Valiant's cheeks turned red. "Shut up. It's part of my report, all right? I have to do a case study on why romance novels sell."

"Sex sells," Warspite said.

"Just because it's romance doesn't mean it involves sex!" Valiant narrowed her eyes. "Hang on. Don't tell me you've been reading those kind of novels?" She grinned.

Now it was Warspite's turn to blush. "What? No, of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Hm, I don't know. But I once saw you eyeing Wat—OW!" Valiant scowled, glaring at Warspite and grabbing her own pillow in defense.

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot so high she nearly believed they vanished into her scalp. "What's this about?" she asked. Watson? That boy who wanted to be a Linguist?

Warspite lowered her pillow, her cheeks even more red than before. She dove under her blanket. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Of course," Valiant scoffed. "You're spending half the day with him. It's nothing, all right."

"The boy simply wants to learn French! I'm just teaching him!" the muffled reply came.

"The next thing we know, you'd be teaching him something else the French is known for."

"I'm not that sort of girl!" Her voice this time was a pitch higher than usual.

Elizabeth hummed in thought. No one had forbidden them to seek out romantic relationships, and even she didn't set any boundaries regarding that. They were, after all, still girls. Human girls bound with human emotions. She wouldn't fault her sisters for seeking out intimacy, especially if what Drake had said about their anatomy was true.

But it was also one of the reasons why relationships would be problematic to have, not to mention their inability to age like humans. If ever they found someone, it would only lead to a painful life. She couldn't bear having that, even if she loved someone deeply.

She noticed Warspite peering at her underneath the blanket. "Yes, sister?" she asked.

Warspite cleared her throat. "Just to be clear, I only see him as a friend and a-a student."

Elizabeth stared at her long and hard before smirking. Perhaps she should start paying more attention to her sisters' lives from now on. The stories sounded interesting. "Just make sure you use protection," she commented as she slid under her blanket.

"It's not like that!"

###

Valiant and Warspite didn't join Elizabeth for lunch the next day, leaving her to sit alone at the café. Not that she minded. Sometimes it was better to study alone, as her sisters' squabbles were often distracting. Besides, she didn't want to intrude on their social lives anyway.

Ignoring the cacophony of conversations around her, she flipped to the next page of her marketing textbook. While the library was more suitable for its quietness, she didn't want to be bothered by other students. Their questions could be annoying sometimes. At least in the café, there were fewer people who would bother her.

And right now, she didn't want to be bothered. A test was coming soon, and she needed all the attention she could give to her studies. How on earth was she supposed to know what customers wanted?

"Well, it's easy, isn't it? You do customer research."

Of course! Why hadn't she thought of that? She scribbled on her notebook. "Thank you," she said.

Then her head whipped to her left.

Evans smiled. "You're welcome."

She gaped at him. Did she said that out loud? "What are you doing here?" she demanded. How did he even get to sit next to her without her knowing?

He gestured around them. "Well, the tables are full and I'm hungry. And since you don't seem to mind it, I took a seat here." He hesitated, then added with a sigh, "I could leave if you want me to."

Elizabeth was tempted to say yes. But he did help her, and perhaps some gratitude was in order. She huffed. "No, you may stay here." She narrowed her eyes. "But I'm not going to pay for your lunch."

He nodded. "You don't have to. I just need a table to sit at."

"Good." She returned her attention to her book, sipping tea while he ordered beef stroganoff and iced tea. If she had to do customer research, how many people should she ask about what they wanted? Fifty? A hundred? Two hundred?

Bloody hell. She wrote a hundred and fifty on her notebook. That should be enough.

"Isn't that too many?" Evans commented.

She sent him a flat stare. "A hundred seems too small."

"No, it isn't. You could get the data you need from just a hundred people. A hundred and fifty would create conflicting data that could ruin your research."

"How so?"

He grabbed his seat, then stopped. "May I?" he asked. Elizabeth waved a hand impatiently, and he moved his seat closer to hers. Taking out his own pen, he began scribbling on her notebook.

"Let's say you're a car dealer," he began. "You want to know what kind of cars people want. If you ask a hundred and fifty people, fifty of them might say Nissan. Another fifty might say Toyota. Then the last fifty might like Benz. What would you do?"

She blinked. "Well, obviously, I would sell all three."

"That's a good way to go bankrupt in a month," he said dryly.

"What? Why would that be?" If she could cater to all of her customers, then surely she could earn more profit.

"Because not all of them will buy your cars." Evans wrote "100" and circled it. "If you have a hundred people, however, and sixty of them say they want Nissan while forty says Toyota, you'd know which car brand you'd sell. Even if it's an even fifty, you can choose which audience to cater to."

She looked at his scribbles, then her own, comparing them. Somehow, he had made things easier to understand, and she couldn't find any fault in his logic. It is far harder than just firing shells and estimating trajectories, she thought.

Switching her gaze to him, she cleared her throat. "That does make sense. Thank you."

He smiled, handing her notebook back to her. "Managing a business is complicated, but you can make it simpler. That's why a lot of promising startups fail. Because they are trying to have all these grand ideas when all they need are the most basic but effective ones."

"People don't like boring things," she retorted.

"I didn't say boring. I said basic. Common, simple." He shrugged. "Often it's the simpler things in life that make it exciting." He checked his watch. "Ah, I have to go. My next class will be in ten minutes."

He stood up, uttered a quick apology for sitting at her table unannounced, then rushed outside the café, leaving Elizabeth to track him until he was gone.

###

The next morning, Warspite brought Watson at the café for lunch.

Elizabeth stared at them, chewing her food slowly. Her sister didn't inform her about this, though it wasn't something worth fuzzing about. She inclined her head. "Hello, Watson."

"Hello," he said softly. Always soft-spoken, this one.

"The rest is full," Warspite explained as she shrugged off her cardigan and hung it on the chair. She was about to sit when Watson hurried to assist her. "Oh, uh, thank you," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Wonderful, Elizabeth thought. She scrutinized the boy. Taller than Warspite by a foot and a half, at least, his mop of curly brown hair complementing his glasses. Not as charming as Evans, though.

Eh?

"Where's Val?" she asked, frowning. She hadn't seen her since the morning.

Warspite sighed. "With her study group, as usual." She turned to Watson. "What do you like?"

He browsed the menu for a moment, then shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I must have tried everything here already."

"Ah."

Elizabeth's eyebrows rose. "You've tried everything on the menu?" While the meals were affordable, they certainly weren't cheap, either.

He nodded, pushing up his glasses. "Market research. Part of my project."

She didn't doubt that, but she had also seen how Watson devoured his food in less than five minutes. How he was still lanky with that appetite, she didn't know. She certainly didn't want to know.

"Well, then, which one is your favorite?" Warspite asked. Another pause, then Watson pointed at the roast beef. Warspite ordered a pasta.

As they waited for the food to arrive, Watson excused himself and went to the loo. Elizabeth tracked him until he was out of sight, then sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing, sister."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. I just invited him for lunch because he helped me with my assignment." Warspite averted her gaze.

"Soon you'll be inviting him to your bed." Elizabeth held up a hand, forestalling Warspite's protest. "I'm not against that. But do remember what Franceska had told us, and how Watson would take it once he found out."

"Not all men are that shallow," Warspite mumbled, twiddling her thumbs.

"No, but a lot are that shallow. Why do you think Franceska has remained alone for three decades?" It was a harsh existence, and Elizabeth often asked why they became girls in the first place if they couldn't achieve the one thing that separated women from men. "Besides, he'll notice you're not… changing."

"I gained weight," her sister offered half-heartedly.

"And so did I," she grumbled. Studying makes one extremely hungry. "But that's not my point. You know that."

Warspite nodded. "I'll be careful. It won't… Our friendship won't lead to anything."

Watson returned a moment later, and they began to eat as the food arrived. Throughout their lunch, Warspite's smile never reached her ears.

###

The next day, Elizabeth groaned and slumped on her table.

She would never make it in time for the test this coming Friday.

It wasn't unexpected; the information she possessed was insufficient to write a report for. It was like going to battle without intel; a battle she would certainly lose.

She closed her book with a sigh, rubbing her blurry eyes. Another day to do her research, just a day to write the damn 15-page report. It's only been a month. Could she even survive the next four years? Neither Valiant nor Warspite seemed to be having issues with their school works. Perhaps she was just not meant for this.

She shook her head and slid her books and notes inside her bag, then stood up. She couldn't give up. Noah had already paid for her tuition fee. She wasn't going to waste that just because she couldn't write a bloody report.

As she turned to leave, her gaze landed on Evans. He sat three tables ahead, muttering and scribbling on his notebook, constantly glancing at a book. He was alone, which wasn't odd. While he had a large circle of friends, Evans was often studying or eating alone.

Elizabeth glanced around the library. It was nearly afternoon, so there were few people about. Her sisters were nowhere in sight. What if she just ask them for help? Valiant had no trouble in her studies, and Warspite would definitely spring at the chance to assist her.

…No, not her sisters. She was the eldest; by right they should be asking her for help, not the other way around. Drake? She was busy with the Revenge sisters, and there was no way Elizabeth could talk to her in time to write the report. Noah was out of the question, and so was Elisa.

Which meant she needed someone else. Someone who had already went through her situation countless of times.

Taking a deep breath, she approached Evans. "Hey," she said, her expression blank.

His head whipped to her. "Oh, hey." There was that smile of his again. "How are—"

"I need help." No pleasantries. She didn't have the time for that.

He blinked. "With what?" he asked slowly.

"My report." Her cheeks heated up a little. To think that she could make a speech, but she couldn't even write a report. How embarrassing. "I need it this Friday, and…" She sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I don't know where to begin."

His stare was sympathetic. "All right. Let me just clear this away so you'll have room to sit on." He paused, his hand hovering above his pencil case. "You're all right with sitting next to me?"

"You sat next to me without my permission the last time we met," she said flatly, crossing her arms.

Evans chuckled. "I know. That's why I'm asking. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

She wouldn't have responded. But the sincerity in his voice, and the way he hurried to clear the table of his belongings so she could place hers, was somehow endearing.

"It's all right." Then she added softly, "I didn't mind."

He looked at her in surprise. Amusement flickered in his eyes, and his smile, though faint this time, sent her heart fluttering.

She averted her gaze and sat down, rummaging inside her bag and pulling out her notes. Focus.

"That's a lot of notes," he commented, peering at the first page. "This is all for your report?"

"Yes. And somehow it isn't enough." It must have been over twenty pages. She had stopped counting on the tenth.

"Mmm." He studied them for a moment, sifting through the pages. It only took a minute, and when he finished, he began writing in a clean sheet of paper. "You said you only have two days?"

"Yes."

He nodded, his eyes shining with confidence. "We can make it work. I'll help you write an outline, but the words will have to be your own."

His pen flew across the paper. Elizabeth watched as the outline came to life. Evans's lips were pursed in a thin line, his brows furrowed in concentration. The words flowed smoothly out of the pen, almost as they were rejoicing to be written on the page.

By the time he was finished, barely fifteen minutes had passed. Wordlessly, Evans handed the one-page outline to her. Elizabeth studied it carefully for a full minute while he waited. It was easy to understand, and she could already see how she would construct her report, what words she would use, the length of the sentences and paragraphs.

She was still skeptical. "This would, help me?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"If it doesn't, I will treat you to a restaurant of your choice."

Her eyebrow rose. "And if it does?"

He gave her another smile, and his eyes twinkled. "You will let me help you when you need it."

"I shall ask if I would need help." Did he think she was incapable? She was just not used to writing reports.

"Of course. But you wouldn't have asked if I wasn't near you." He shrugged.

"So you want to be near me?"

"I want to be your friend, Elizabeth." It was the first time he said her name, and the sound of his voice rang pleasant in her ears. "Would you let me?"

Such a simple request, but the answer was hard to give. Nevertheless, his efforts deserved some reward. She smile faintly as she stood.

"We'll see."

Two days later, she submitted her report after two nights of writing it. She spent the weekends just relaxing in her room, stretching her cramped muscles while sipping hot tea and listening to classical music.

On Monday, she received the results.

It was the highest graded report in her class.

###

Noah studied the report with scrutiny. Another merchant ship lost at sea, over 650 miles off the Irish coastlines. The third for this month. The tenth for this year.

He checked the reports last year. There were seven incidents. Five the year before that, and eight on 1992. There was no pattern to it; the number of lost ships would rise or fall in wavering lines, sometimes peaking, sometimes dipping. An inconclusive data.

Or was it? There was a common theme: the lost ships contained cargos. Metal, wood, fabrics, copper, and even gold. Necessary supplies for the modern world. Were pirates selling things now?

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. His neck ached from looking down at the table for since lunch, his fingers were stiff from signing request forms and other documents. And the pounding in his head, like a sledgehammer wielded by a 500-pound man. Or a girl with the strength of a battleship.

And it was just Monday. There was a reason why everyone in the Royal Navy hated Mondays. There was a reason why everyone in the world hated Mondays.

Then the phone rang, and Noah hated Mondays even more.

Sighing, he picked up the receiver and spoke dully, "Rear-Admiral Noah Dallimore. Who's this?"

"Noah." It was Elisa, her voice tight and urgent. He straightened at once. "Can you come over here tonight?"

"What happened?" He was already standing up, readying to rush outside and call for Brian. Elisa had never asked for him to come over during Mondays.

Her voice dropped lower. "There are men outside. We don't know who they are."

"Men." Boys. Isabel shook violently, her eyes blank. She barely spoke. Noah balled his free hand. "Can you see them? What are they doing?"

There was a brief pause. Elisa must be looking out a window. "Nothing. They're just talking on the other side of the road, near the Talbots. They… Renee said they've been following her since last week."

"Have you called the police?"

"Can we call the police?"

Noah hesitated. Involving the authorities might complicate matters if they decided to snoop around. He grimaced. "No, not until there's no other choice." An idea struck him. "Call Franceska. Tell her to come and bring the girls over." There was strength in numbers, after all.

"I already did," Elisa snorted. Noah raised an eyebrow in surprise. "It won't be like before."

"Not like before," he agreed softly. Not anymore. "Lock the doors. Wait for us. I'll be there in an hour."

He ended the call and was soon pounding the door on Brian's room.

So, yeah, it's becoming a romance, which may or may not be anyone's cup of tea. No pun intended.

But rest assured that I will try my best to keep the story engaging. And with that last scene, there will be interesting developments in the next chapters.

As always, thank you for the support!