Page 12 of A Yulean Sister’s Guide to Getting Kidnapped

My mind rushed with the sound of waves. I tried to push the uncomfortability down, but there was no use.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t shirk your responsibilities.” I pushed my chair out and stood. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I began to walk away, but thought better of it. I turned and grabbed one of the delectable looking cookies from the table and then stomped off. I could hear Paige behind me trying to make excuses, but I had no interest in them.

I wouldn’t be going to the damn beach.

Chapter 4

Adrian

This shirt was too tight.

I pulled at the waistcoat, praying that eventually it would release from my skin, even a bit. Alas, all my efforts proved fruitless, and I was caught in the infernal contraption once more.

“Stop fussing,” Connie said as she strode by, ale in hand. She didn’t have to attend this part of the mission.

I was flying solo for this one.

“At least you don’t have to be tied up in these tight clothes,” I shot back. Connie was my right hand, and had been since I started. She was reliable, not to mention bad ass.

“I wear a corset every day,” she snorted. “You can deal with a waistcoat for a day.”

I huffed. Moons, this was ridiculous. I had no clue if it would even work. I turned the pocket watch in my trousers, affirming it was still there, but also just to give me something to do with my hands.

“You should get going,” she pointed out. “Most guests are arriving the night before, and we had the carriage set up to pick you up at sundown.”

She was right. It was almost time for me to pretend to be one of these people. I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off, but we would see.

“Wait, Cap,” Anne said, whipping around the corner and almost tripping over her own feet. Anne was one of my newest crew members. She was just getting her sea legs, but she was scrappy and willing to learn, traits I valued highly in my members. “I got this for ya.”

She held out a chain, shined with a clip on one end and a dark blue brooch on the other side.

I held it up. “A watch chain?”

She nodded. “Got it from one of our last runs. It needed some shining and a new chain link, but it was no trouble. Just like repairing the anchor.”

That was the other thing that made her so valuable. She was one of the best tinkerers I’d ever met, making her perfect for fixing things around the ship. “You didn’t have to,” I insisted. “I don’t give special treatment for gifts.”

Her eyes turned the size of a wheel head. “No, not like that at all,” she insisted. “I just wanted to do something nice, no expectations, promise.”

My smile cracked through, unable to help it. “Thank you, Anne.”

She bowed like I was some kind of royalty. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Scallywag!” one of the other crew members called from across the deck. It was a name she was quickly familiarized with.

“Good luck then.” She bowed again before scurrying off to see what Links needed.

My hands went to adjust my hat before I realized I wasn’t wearing it. My long, somewhat unruly hair was tied back in a half up bun style that was common for the nobility of Yerev, where I was pretending to be from.

Well, it was where I was from, but I was far from royalty. But for the next couple days, it was my job to convince them otherwise. Which meant leaving the hat I wore constantly behind.

With a few more rolls of my shoulders I walked down the ramp towards the dock. I spent little time in Peradona myself, but I knew enough about it. It was a nation large in not only trade, but also travel. So it wasn’t unusual for a noble from a different nation to enter on the docks.

Bramwell walked beside me, but slightly behind. This was how nobles tended to act, and even other captains I’d met. I never saw the point in it honestly. If you needed your people to walk behind you to feel as if they respected you, then that respect wasn’t earned.

For the purpose of this mission however, this was what needed to be done. Bramwell was the perfect person to come with me as the other half of my cabinet. While Connie was tactful and the brawn the team needed, Bramwell was a reader. There had yet to be a book we encountered he hadn’t at least skimmed. His wealth of knowledge was something I wasn’t sure how I’d done anything without. Which meant he knew a lot about noble customs I’d spend my entire life avoiding.