Page 6 of Measure of the Stars

Chapter Two

Wes kicked at a pileof clothes at the foot of Delauney’s bed.Most Starian ships had spells in the hull to repel bugs and vermin, but shipwrights didn’t always hire the best workers, and some messes were too much for the best protective rune.Thankfully, nothing skittered out from under the pile.

Wes had refused to train as a proper service submissive, even though his parents tried to convince him to give it a go.They thought noble doms wanted submissives who got off on house cleaning or licking boots, but in Wes’ opinion, nobles had enough bootlickers to last them a while.Wes enjoyed the act of taking a mess and finding order in the chaos; he just didn’t like the thought of someone lording it over him.It felt demeaning, even if he didn’t begrudge other submissives whodidlike service.

Wes picked up one of the papers littered over the floor.Delauney had said not to read anything, but nobles gave meaningless orders all the time.He couldn’t sort the papers if he didn’t know what they were.

“If you don’t know how to read, you’re fucked,” one of Wes’ old friends had said, back when he still lived in Duciel.He’d been a boy at the time, running with fellow lower-city kids whose parents didn’t act like they had half a dozen titles.Most of his friends had worked for noble families in the Star District, delivering messages and helping the other servants.“If you can’t read what nobles are writing, you won’t know when they’re pulling something over on you.”

It had been one of the more useful lessons of Wes’ early life, and one he hadn’t listened to properly until it had been too late.If he’d bothered to read his parents’ correspondence, maybe he would have known they were planning to send him to the navy in time to escape.He wasn’t about to be caught unawares again.

Wes squinted at the page he’d picked up from one of Delauney’s piles.Crossed-out formulas and strings of digits crowded in corners and around sketches of overlapping rings and stripes.The only letters were wedged in with the formulas, a type of math Wes had barely learned by the time he’d been shipped off to the navy.He didn’t even know what some of the symbols were.How on earth was Delauney supposed to think that Wes could glean anything from a page full of numbers?

The other papers were the same.Some had pages of rings and circles, and he unfolded an entire sheet of grid lines with a hole in the middle.There was a map marked with even more numbers and a journal Wes didn’t bother to open.He set them all on a bare patch of floor and stared down at them, frowning.

Who was Delauney?The papers indicated a frenetic intellect, but Delauney didn’t pretend to be anything other than an uncomplicated, jovial noble who couldn’t be bothered to do any real work.What was all that math for?It couldn’t be for navigation.The first captain Wes served under couldn't count without his fingers, and he still managed to keep the ship on course.

Delauney tried to come in twice as Wes started sorting out the mess on the floor, but all it took was a stern look for him to go shrinking back out again.He was the least commanding officer Wes had ever met, even for a submissive.He was also a secret peacock, if his clothes were any indication.There were piles of folded, unused clothes under the uniforms he’d discarded, and every untouched vest and jacket was worth a small fortune.Wes put them all in netted bags for laundering, which he found in their own pile in the corner.

When he finally let Delauney in, Delauney gave him a nervous smile.“Look at that!I can see the floor!”

“Pieces of it,” Wes said.Delauney’s face went pink.“Those piles are getting laundered.That’s probably trash.You should go through the papers and toss out what isn’t important, and that’ll give me enough space to scrub the floors.”

“I’ll just put them in the chest,” Delauney said.He stopped short as Wes sat down on the chest in question.“Wes.The chest.”

Wes didn’t move.

“Is this your version of tying me to the mast?”

“You’re a submissive,” Wes said.“For all I know, you might like it.”He stopped short, uncertain how Delauney might react.He’d forgotten, in the chaotic mess and Delauney’s overly casual attitude, that Delauney was technically still his captain.But Delauney only grinned.

“I can’t be tied up for long,” he said.“I wriggle too much.”

“Some doms like that.”

“Point me in their direction and I’ll give you a promotion,” Delauney said.He started looking over the papers.“The doms in the brothels of Diabolos are few and far between, and they generally give you a firm spank and tell you to be a good boy before sending you on your way.”

That wasn’t Wes’ experience, but he had a feeling noble officers didn’t visit the same brothels as enlisted sailors.

“I do wonder, though.”Delauney smoothed out a paper and put it under a book on his desk, probably to flatten the creases.It looked too far gone for that, but Delauney seemed like a man who didn’t know when to give up.“How did the rest of the ship let you tie the captain to the mast?”