Page 97 of A Yulean Sister’s Guide to Getting Kidnapped

Bramwell didn’t say anything. When the more casual touching started, no one said a word, though I could see the confused looks from some of the crew. Some of them minded their business better than others, but I understood the nosey ones.

“Are we docking soon?” he asked instead.

“Yes, the next couple hours.” I looked down at Sage. “Do you mind if I steal your company?”

“Go right ahead,” Bramwell said. “I’m not the most exciting sort.”

Sage gasped. “Don’t say that, we have the best time. Did you know Bramwell speaks six languages? We’ve been practicing together.”

I lifted a brow as Bramwell went on. “Sage learned Draconian in school, and we’re both very rusty.”

Sage said something in a language I very much didn’t understand, and Bramwell responded, both of them laughing. Though it was annoying to not understand them, seeing her blend in so seamlessly with my crew made me happy in a way that was hard to describe.

“How riveting,” I said sarcastically. Sage elbowed me in the ribs for the jab, and I pretended it was worse than it was, holding my side and howling.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” she said.

“But it’s my specialty,” I shot back.

She rolled her eyes but packed up her sewing kit. “Where are we going?” she asked as she took my hand and started down the hallway.

“Okay, so don’t call me crazy⁠—”

“Too late,” she interrupted.

I rolled my eyes. “But I thought we could do just a bit more exposure therapy.”

She stopped quickly, as if she wasn’t in such impractical shoes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we should go to the deck.”

Her face blanched. “I don’t think I want to.”

“I know,” I said. “But you wanted more exposure, and we’re going pretty slow right now. Plus, the weather is great. Don’t you want to feel the sun?”

“There’s a window in the meeting room,” she said. “Plus, sun makes you wrinkle faster.”

I smiled, taking her biting attitude for the deflection that it was. “I’ll keep you safe,” I promised. “And if it’s too much, we can come right back down.”

She licked her lips nervously, then muttered something I didn’t quite catch.

“What?”

“What if I…” her mumble was too soft again.

Huh?”

“Fall off the ship,” she all but yelled. “What if the wind is so hard, I get swept off the deck?”

Though it might have been a funny thing to say coming from someone else, I’d seen this from her. She was going through every scenario that even felt possible to her, spiraling about it until she convinced herself out of doing it.

“You’re too heavy,” I said simply. “Especially for the nice weather. But if you’re still nervous, you can hang on to me.” I slapped my tail to the ground hard, for effect. “I’m certainly too heavy to fly off.”

She chewed her lip a bit more. I wanted nothing more than to pull it away and suck on it, but I controlled myself.

For now.

“F-fine,” she finally agreed. “But only for a few minutes. Five, tops.”