Chapter Text
“Ishmael?”
“In a minute, Estie,” he said.
More than a minute ticked by in silence. Esther clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Six years married, and still, some things never change,” she said.
She ran a hand through his hair and sat down beside him. “When did you become so obsessed with this?” She motioned at the table. Ishmael stared at a nearly-completed model ship. He dabbled his paintbrush at a small figure on its prow.
“Theo said I should try doing something more creative—kid’s been giving me unsolicited advice recently, and he hasn’t been wrong about any of it.”
She mulled over his words, and then continued on as though he had never spoken. “The mornings are cold without you." She inched closer, pressing their shoulders together. “You should try attending to your wife, for once.”
His body felt warm — the same warmth that had soothed her through all sleepless nights at sea, the same warmth that comforted her as everyone around them vanished, as their country — their home — crumbled into dust.
For a while the only sound she heard was the occasional heaving of the brush across a wooden palette and the sputtering of the fireplace, embers expending the last of their warmth.
She'd allowed that warmth to consume her, had let him become her everything. it crossed a line she’d swore never to cross. He became more than a kindred spirit, more than a comrade-in-arms, more than a brother.
“Estie, you’re always so—”, he paused to muffle a yawn, “distracting.” A drop of silver paint fell from the brush.
“What did you expect?” He could hear every tone and inflection of her voice so close to his ear. “You fell in love first, after all.”
When she noticed the paint speckled on his clothes, like silver tears, she plucked the brush from his hand. He'd been ready to die since the war began, but he lived, and now what was left behind was only sorrow.
“Hush, my dear,” she said, pressing their palms together. “You need to remember to take care of yourself.” His head slumped over hers.
“I love you." Her voice was ephemeral in his state of half-consciousness.
“Love you too, Estie,” he murmured, finally succumbing to her touch.
☆
The three of them trudged down the streets of Magnesia, the capital of the Regicide Fleet countries. The humid summer air was suffocating, and yet, thousands of people gathered together for the inaugural Ship Princess festival.
“Mama, come on!”
Black and white bangs pushed her way through the crowd, both of her parents in tow. Her braids waggled as she ran, a flower crown on her head, dress flapping in the wind. What was most striking was her uncanny resemblance to her mother, the acting president of the Republic of San Magnolia.
Behind her, a silver-haired woman gave chase, letting loose a stream of breathless apologies.
“Reina, wait!” she called.
“Reina? Where are you, Reina?”
A man came up beside her — his crimson eyes visibly worried — the black-and-white streaked girl slung over his shoulder. His leather boots were smudged with dust from tiny footprints, and his coat collar was upturned, a garishly colored shirt peeking out from underneath.
“I found her, Lena,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. He traced circles across her palm. “She’s okay.”
Reina thrashed about in protest, her hands around his neck as though trying to strangle him.
“I want Mama to carry me!” she cried, her feet kicking against his chest.
Lena took Reina into her arms, smoothing out her crumpled dress and fixing her hair.
“It’s not befitting a young lady to run around yelling, sweetie,” she said, placing Reina back on the ground. She took her daughter’s hand. “Or to demand that her mother should cart her around.”
Shin laughed and took her other hand.
“You and your aunt would get along very well,” he said. Something in his voice when he said it felt like a child laughing at his own joke. The aunt in question was Augusta Frederica Adel-Adler, heir to the Empire’s bloodline and president (though, it was only in title) of the Federacy.
“Well, you’re both practically royalty, so I guess it makes sense.” Reina looked at him, craning her neck to make out his expression.
“Royalty? Am I going to be a queen like Mama too?”
“Your mother would love to answer that, wouldn’t she?” he said, giving Lena a smirk.
She silently mouthed something at him and averted her gaze.
“It’s awfully hot right now,” she said. “Why don’t we get something to drink first?”
“Yeah!” came the enthusiastic reply from Reina, her question already forgotten.
Her father, Shinei Nouzen—war hero, glorified secretary, and dedicated stay-at-home dad—nodded in agreement.
☆
The sky was dark when they awoke, and the distant lights of the festival flickered and flared, setting the town alight.
“Never thought we’d live to see another one. . .” he said, as if in his memory he was searching for some forgotten feeling.
Her voice faltered as she stood at the bow of the Rachel, dark-blond hair fluttering in the ocean breeze. She stood witness to the desolate ocean, the calls of nearby Leviathans reverberating like trilling flutes in harmony.
“The sea's calm tonight,” she said.
He answered in earnest. “The tide is full, the moon lies fair,” he said. The silver half of the moon reflected in the sea.
“But, ah, love, let us be true to one another." He could almost hear her smile through her song and sparkling eyes. Starlight dappled the crests of waves. Noctilucas carved out phosphorescent trails, swelling and contracting, guided by the wind.
“So beautiful,” he said.
“A land of dreams."
Esther leaned into him as he enveloped her in his arms. His hands wandered along her cheek and across inked petals. There were two flowers, one ornately folded like a lotus, with pink petals and a dark, lidded center, and one in white. They'd been tattooed on the day after they wed, an apology for the past and a promise for the future.
Crashing, scattered waves filled the spaces of their silence.
“Say, have Shin and Lena arrived yet?” he asked.
“At the festival.”
“Is the kid with them?”
She started to open her mouth, and, after a brief hesitation, said nothing.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I tried, but a certain idiot can't sleep at a reasonable hour,” she said. “Irresponsible to the ends of the earth, and then some more.”
“One of my many charms, wouldn’t you say?”
She untangled herself from his embrace to face him, a disapproving pout on her face, resting her hands on his firebird tattoo.
“They say the feathers of a firebird are magical. And can drive a man insane with desire.”
Her dark eyes gleamed, infused with red and orange from the festival fire reflected in her irises.
“I’ve heard that only beautiful people can see them,” he said.
She came in closer, the darkness obscuring all but their silhouettes from view.
Fireworks brightened the sky in the distance.
☆
A crowd gathered around the center square, encircling a statue atop the fountain. Countless flowers pooled at its feet, like towers floating along in a burbling stream, loose petals cast in the air by a draft.
Then they stilled, falls of rain in every color, and settled on the cobblestone ground. Stalls and storefronts scattered about, selling food and trinkets, and the hubbub of laughter and chatter drowned out even the sound of the sea.
Reina tugged at her father’s sleeve.
“Why is there a statue of Mama?” she asked. Shin squinted at the statue.
“The Ship Princess does look a bit like you."
“I’m sure it’s a coincidence,” Lena said. “People say the same thing about Saint Magnolia’s statue.”
They slowly made their way towards the fountain, dressed to kill in the trendiest clothing from the spring Kukumilla collection, and the crowd parted for them, pointed stares and murmurs following quickly behind.
Lena had tried to refuse when Kurena showed up at their doorstep with thousands of dollars of dresses and suits, in silk and flannel and every other conceivable material piled in stacks a dozen high, but she'd insisted that someone of their status ought to show it.
Reina pried the flower crown off of her head, waving towards the head of the statue, and Shin stepped up to the edge, raising her on his shoulders.
“Now Mama is a real queen!” Reina said. Shin hauled her down from the sky. The inscription at his feet read:
Mary Garden, at the Fountain of the Blind.
As they wandered from shop to shop, Lena stole glances at the statue, smiling at the crooked crown. Shin ordered a plate of fried squid from a stall, which Reina was happy to relieve him of.
They were happy together, she thought. The life she had wished so desperately for —
Then they passed the florid storefront of a certain perfume shop.
☆
Reina munched on a piece of fried squid, watching them argue in hushed tones. A banner overhead flashed.
She glanced at her mother, tearing her eyes away from it.
“What’s an ambergris, Mama?” she asked, her mouth still full.
Lena nearly choked on her words.
Reina continued chattering on, “Is it like what you and daddy do at night?”
Shin started coughing and Lena stood frozen, like a piece of uprooted driftwood that floats along without going anywhere, redness reaching the tips of her ears.
After an eternity, Shin managed a few words.
“Reina, do you know what shovels are used for?”
She nodded.
“Well, ah… ambergris is like the opposite of a shovel. Does that make sense?”
She was still confused. Her mother laughed, though, and her blush started to fade from her face, so she chose not to think too much of it.
Then the glass doors swung open and a woman with a peony tattoo stood in the doorway.
“Esther?”
The woman’s eyes sparkled in response.
“Welcome to the finest seller of perfume on this side of the continent, President Nouzen.”
“I’m only acting president, really,” Lena said, as they entered the store.
“Regardless, you still use that terrible violet perfume. A woman of your standing should be investing more in her appearance, shouldn't she?”
Esther procured a bottle from a drawer.
“A bottle at no cost, if you two,” she paused to glance at Shin, “use it for its intended purpose this time.” She smirked. “Perhaps you could make another one.”
Shin cleared his throat rather loudly, his gaze boring holes into her. She shoved the bottle into Lena’s hands. An awkward silence settled as Lena fidgeted with her purse, dropping the bottle in with a soft clink.
“You both look exhausted,” Esther said. “It seems like the little one certainly isn't doing you any favors.”
“I’d never have thought being a parent would be more difficult than running a country," she sighed, "but Reina can be more needy than the military budget sometimes.”
She slouched against a glass display case. Reina wandered around the store terrorizing, opening drawers and leaving bottles scattered on the floor.
“Ishmael would certainly give her quite the stiff competition,” she said. “Thirty years older, and the bastard still can’t do his own laundry.”
Reina, now clutching her father’s leg, studied Esther's face. Esther locked eyes with her.
“Sorry for the mess," Lena said.
“You should take a day off,” she said. “We can take care of her tonight.”
“That’d be nice,” Lena said.
“I’ll see you after the festival, then.”
The bell attached to the door chimed softly.
☆
As night descended upon the city, the festivities continued, and the sheer number of flowers had covered the entirety of the central square, glowing vibrantly in the moonlight.
Applause petered out from the crowd. Theo stood at a makeshift stage nearby, dressed in a suit and tie, and wielding a prosthetic arm. Annette peered out from behind him, straightening his collar.
“Stop slouching, Theo,” she said, dusting off the lint from his coat.
They stalked in the shadows, waiting. Theo caught a glimpse of them from the corner of his eye. Annette waved them over.
Annette made eye contact with Shin and looked away. A blond-haired woman whispered something in Lena’s ear.
She foisted Reina into the woman's grasp and turned to Shin.
“Esther says we can go see Ishmael now, if you’d like.” She looked over at Theo and Annette. “You two are welcome to come.”
Annette’s face twisted in displeasure while Theo merely shook his head. “We’ve had more than enough meetings with the old man,” he said apologetically. “Annette isn’t particularly fond of him.”
Lena shrugged and took Shin’s hand, waltzing off to the shipyard with a bounce in her step.
“Are you alright?” he asked. "Mood swings? Another manic episode?"
She smiled gleefully back at him. “No, I just really want to show you something,” she said, her eyes glassy in the moonlight.
Her hair wavered in the wind, strands of silver against a dark sky.
“Hurry up, Shinei!”
☆
The barren outline of a wooden vessel towered over the shipyard. Esther had followed them to a gangway that opened towards the Rachel and left to fetch Ishmael, leaving them to wilt on the upper deck.
“The sea’s so beautiful at night,” Lena said quietly. She watched, captivated by blue luminescence blinking in and out of existence.
Sound and color smoldered like cinders from behind them, and volleys of fireworks emitted their light to the sky, from red to gold to yellow to green.
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen fireworks together,” he said. “Reminds me of the end of the war.”
She took his hand.
“Those months after you left… every time I saw fireworks, I promised that I would remember them, remember you. I promised myself that we would survive.”
“You did make it to the end. You kept your promise—you said wouldn’t forget, and you didn’t.”
Shin held her close. The fireworks stopped and restarted, but for a moment it seemed like it was only the two of them.
“Just being here together is a miracle," she said. “I can’t believe we’re living, not just fighting to stay one step ahead of death.”
She shifted under his arm and he let out a breath in agreement. They stood silent for a while.
“I love you,” she said. “You make me feel safe, always, even when that isn’t the case. And with Reina, you do so much for her, even though I know how hard it is for you.”
He saw her in piercing crimson.
“I love you too, Lena.”