Someone else’s delicate fingers buttoned my vest. Another’s pinned my cape. A third ran their fingers through my hair, swishing it just so. The last stage of my costume for dinner came together in a flurry of activity.

It was all black, with dark green accents, the embroidery on my coat, the lining of my cape. Apparently this was to bring out the color of my eyes. I didn’t have a mirror, the only full length one was in Caleb’s room, and that was where Bernadette was getting ready, but I could see what it looked like from looking down.

A dark coat jacket buttoned down the left side of my chest to match the pants. And my side cloak shimmered with green silk in the soft lamplight.

Queen Cerelia had teleported here along with the tailors and such. I thought maybe it was to make this into a more formal occasion, but apparently it was as Bernadette's moral support. Caleb finally let spill that she had been the one teaching her in their private lessons.

The two of them, King and Queen, played cards over a barrel while I got ready. Everywhere else in the hold of the ship, folks played cards. The sound of quiet conversation was punctuated by intermittent chuckles, and huffs of consternation. A makeshift tournament had been drummed up with silly prizes. I got the idea that real money would have made it rowdy. Prizes included things like choice work assignments, extra rations, a small bit of candy, and the grand prize of a kiss on the cheek from the Queen.

The crew was already mixed gender, so the addition of more women to the ship caused little drama. The only military on Vesperalis that wasn’t integrated were the elves. Why was anyone’s guess. I was told the herb women took to control their cycles here was said to be plentiful in the Kingswood, so it must have been a cultural thing, not a practical one.

That line of thinking led me to what could happen at the end of the date. Caleb allowed us the use of his room as a place for ‘drinks and conversation’ in private. Yep, that was way too scary. Not going there.

So, I was basically ready! I trudged across the hold to the stairs up.

Caleb grabbed my arm on the way.

“Hey, it’s a date. It’s for fun. Have fun.”

“I will,” I replied with my best smile.

“Ha! Close enough.”

He smiled at me then leaned in to continue talking to his wife. I think in the past, I would look at Caleb and Cerelia with envy. They were both so beautiful, so exceptional. But here, seeing them play cards together, laughing. It was nice. I couldn’t summon any feeling but appreciation. The way she looked at him wasn’t the carefully composed fondness she used at lunch. She looked at him with familiarity, and unreserved mirth. They truly loved each other.

Nope. Wait. There it was. I was a little jealous that they got to be so happy. I quickly dismissed it.

Everyone had worked pretty hard to get me this date. I was incredibly fortunate to have this many people who cared about me. Or who cared about Caleb, who cared about me.

I passed Rachel and Braeyln at the stairs. They shared steaming mugs of tea. Rachel gave me a grin. Braeyln gave me a cool nod. I wondered if maybe they had a chance to be happy. What was holding them back?

Rachel seemed to remember something, and waved me over.

“Hey, you look great,” she said.

“Thanks!”

“Remember,” Braelyn butt it, “dinner, dance, then private drinks.”

“I remember.”

“Do you?”

“Anyway,” Rachel said, “don’t drink too much at dinner. You want to impress her, not be a mess.”

“Got it.”

“And you have to lower the stakes. This is just to get to know her. Let her set the pace til you get a go ahead for action.”

“Action?”

“Or not. Keep your expectations low.”

“But take this seriously,” Braelyn said.

“Jesus,” I muttered.

“You’ll do great,” Rachel said. She slapped my ass and shook my shoulder. “Go get ‘er tiger.”

I laughed.

Okay, game time.

What happened next needed my full focus.

I grabbed the banister, and walked up the steps.

Out on the deck was a whole new world. Usually crawling with people, now there were just a few. A soft amber glow spilled from arcane lamps, and yellow fairylight hovered here and there. Robin's promised friends, I supposed. I’d asked them to do something nice for another favor. I guess mood lighting was his play.

The deck had been scrubbed, and lacquered to a sheen. A fruit tree in a massive pot hung oranges over the table set for us. A bottle of wine sat on ice. Music drifted in from a violin player leaning against the mast.

Where had they gotten the tree? Or the ice for that matter? I knew the answer was either magic or great wealth, but it was astounding either way.

Starlight spilled across the sky in a raging torrent, much more than it ever did in the city, the way you only get out on cloudless ocean night. It was truly stunning.

Bernadette stood next to the table. She took my breath away.

Look, I’m much better at describing the fundamentals of Historical European Martial Arts, or the ins and outs of Python, than like fashion or textiles. Even after talking to Rachel about it, I wasn’t even sure I knew the difference between chiffon and brocade or whatever.

But let me do this dress justice.

Of course my eyes went to the corset first, a dark maroon that complemented her lipstick — and not just because of the lifting it did to her bust — but because it was emblazoned with a thousand glimmering beads that swirled and whirled in sweeping shapes. The beads traveled down the skirt, which was slashed with cutouts of lace, through which pale skin showed.

Her hair was still very short, so she’d opted for a slicked back wet look, and accessorized with a black lace choker, and single lacy glove. A skinny belt hung around her waist for a single dagger. Even on a date, she had the option for violence.

I thought that was hot as hell.

When she turned to look at me, her pale neck arced from her clavicle to her ear in a way that set my blood racing. Like, yes, a woman’s typical curves are great, but there is something about an exposed neck and clavicle that makes a man’s brain go haywire.

I reined in my stupid man-brain, and focused on keeping it under wraps. I smiled and waved in a way that I hoped was genuine. I wanted to show my excitement.

This was a measured and chill version of what I really wanted to do which was wolf-whistle and slam my fist on the table while my eyeballs popped out of my skull, and my tongue rolled out of my mouth — so please don’t judge me too harshly for waving like a dork at the beginning of a date.

She laughed and smiled wide, and my heart darn near exploded into a thousand pieces.

What a woman.

I could feel my cheeks flush.

I grabbed the banister with one hand, and balled my fist with the other. I knew I could do this. She liked me. I’d faced death itself a dozen times. I could go on a date with a girl that liked me.

But what if she didn’t love me?

Well, I’d survived being shot and stabbed, I could survive a broken heart too.

I just had to nut up and leave my cards on the table.

Tonight wasn’t about me anyway. It was about her.

I walked to the table, and managed not to trip.

“You look great,” I said.

Bernadette’s eyes traveled up my outfit, and she responded with, “they got you shined up like a new penny.”

“Thanks!”

She laughed. I moved her chair out for her. She had to bunch up her skirts to sit down, revealing her shoes — small black low-slung shoes with an impressive 5-inch heel that left her ankles exposed — and suddenly I understood exactly what the hullabaloo about ankles was about back in the day.

I darted around to my spot, and sat. The violin player, a squat orc woman with short hair and a bored look, gave me a thumbs-up. She then rang a little bell.

An explosion of flower petals that disappeared before they touched the ground heralded the arrival of Braelyn. She wore a smartly tailored vest and pants, and did a little bow.

“I’ll be your server tonight,” she said with a cool expression.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Bernadette said, placing a hand on her arm.

“Appreciate it,” I said.

“Of course,” Braelyn replied.

She served us drinks and the violinist played something sweet and swelling. The faint singing of the fairies droned under it. Then they stopped, and the violinist played something quieter.

“The fairies are a fun touch,” noted Bernie, “those Robin’s people?”

“I ah, I think so,” I replied. “I just told them to do something nice.”

“Oh. Wow. They aren’t one to hand out favors.”

I just shrugged.

Bernie nodded and took a sip of wine.

Okay. Conversation starters. This was to get to know her. What did I want to know about her?

We’d already talked about her family a bit on the road — she was a middle child of a fairly large family. They didn’t approve of her going into the arts as a full time career. And we’d talked about politics enough that I was fairly sure that either one of us wouldn’t surprise the other with an odious political opinion — something our parents didn’t have to worry about, but was a serious consideration now.

So I went with something easy.

“What kind of movies do you like? Maybe we can integrate one into our troubadour routine?”

Bernie laughed. Braelyn set down a plate of shrimp on ice. Bernie plopped one in her mouth and chewed. She gave an indistinct noise.

“I’m a big fan of the manly classics, Godfather, American Psycho —” I said.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She raised an eyebrow, and swallowed.

“I mean I get the irony in the movies, Patrick Bateman is supposed to be an unreliable narrator, and is too pathetic to really be a serial killer, it’s just a fantasy he indulges in. Which, now that I think about it, probably wouldn’t work here. Godfather maybe?”

“Right,” she said.

“But I also like Audrey Hepbern movies,” I said.

“Okay,” she said with a little more interest. “Like what?”

“‘Breakfast at Tiffanies’ is the obvious one, despite the Mickey Rooney of it all. I think Holly Golightly is a fascinating character. Oh and ‘Roman Holiday’ of course.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding sagely.

“Did you know that Audrey Hepburn didn’t think she could play an outgoing character?” I asked.

“No! She’s so charismatic,” admitted Bernie.

“Her personal story is actually pretty fascinating. Her whole look was basically because of malnutrition during World War 2.”

Bernie nodded and took a sip of wine.

Shit. I was bombing. Don’t talk about women’s bodies maybe? I stopped my whole Audrey Hepburn talk, and directed it back to her.

“What about you?”

“We traveled around a lot as a kid. Didn’t watch movies as much. Except for golden age musicals. Then, when I got older I discovered the internet.”

Shit. Okay Zachary. Remember a single Golden Age Musical. My Fair Lady? Damn. That’s just Audrey Hepburn again. Fiddler on the Roof?

“Did y'all watch Fiddler on the Roof?”

“Yes! Did you know the Broadway run was the first ever to run more than 3000 performances?”

“I did not know that!”

“Yeah! My mom’s family is from Russia, she’s Jewish. So it was a big deal in our household.”

“Wow,” I connected some dots. “Wait. Your mom is a Russian gymnast?”

“Only in that her family is from Russia. But she was a Silver medalist.”

“Wow.”

“She was the serious one. And my dad taught me to juggle.”

To drive the point home she tossed her fork high in the air then caught it behind her head.

“Ha!” I laughed. “That never gets old.”

She waggled her eyebrows, and smiled, before grabbing another shrimp. I grabbed one too. Braelyn set down a plate of bite sized crab biscuits. I snagged one. It was fantastic. Caleb’s guy was good.

Okay. Keep the conversation going.

“I don’t know a lot about Fiddler. Who is your favorite character?”

“Tevye!”

We launched into identical renditions of ‘Rich Man,’ including the ‘yada yada dis.’

“You do know fiddler!” she said.

“I mean, mostly that song. Wait, why Tevye, and not one of the female characters?”

“I mean, you called them ‘female characters’ for one, and not their names. Also I like his jovial attitude that belies the quiet inner yearning to keep his family together in the face of tragedy. He’s complex.”

“That makes sense.”

We chatted a bit about movies and stories we liked, eventually turning to Caleb’s play right as dinner was served. It was more elven fair, but with beef, very savory and well seasoned. Not too heavy though. I’m sure it was fantastic. I barely touched it.

“Wait,” I interrupted, “Benni’s backstory is from Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Yes!” she said, snorting with laughter.

“I can’t imagine the great, and mighty King Caleb watching Grey’s!”

“Well, it’s not some sin to watch a show girls like! We do it all the time for y’all.”

“Huh. Yeah, you’re right. Wait, what show were you forced to watch?”

“Ugh,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I’m not getting into it.”

“Wait, isn’t ‘getting into it’ the whole point of this date?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, taking a sip of wine, before continuing, “if you play your cards right.”

I felt my face get hot, and I tried not to smile too wide.

“Mama Mia! Okay. That caught me by surprise.”

“Really?” she said silkily. “Then you’re not keeping up.”

“Hey, I can keep it up.”

Bernadette snorted, and she coughed as she breathed a bit of wine.

“Shit!” she sputtered.

I got up thinking to help her. She put her hand on my arm, to keep me where I was. She recovered quickly, and our eyes locked. Her hand didn’t leave my arm. I put my other hand atop hers.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“You win this round, Zachary.”

“It’s not really winning, unless we win together.”

“I should hope so,” she said slyly.

My face must have been red as a beet, and my heart thumped wildly out of control. I kept my cool. I let go and sat back down. Her hand trailed down my forearm as I left.

“Ah, we should finish this food,” I said.

“Nah,” Bernie said, shoving a last bit of steak into her mouth and talking while chewing, “let’s dance! Grula?” She directed to the violinist.

The violin played something quick and snappy. I offered my hand without missing a beat. I was ready for this. I’d practiced some with Cal — man was a great dancer — and got a refresher with Braelyn moments ago. I wasn’t going to win a contest, but I knew how to keep a good topline, and lead with some confidence.

I started by spinning her. She laughed. It was my favorite sound now. It almost scared me how much I craved it. But I didn’t have time to think about that because I pulled her in, skirt swirling, and now she was close. My steps were a little wobbly on the deck, but I got used to it quickly.

Her hands were a little damp. Was she nervous? I couldn’t tell.

We didn’t talk. It wasn’t time for that. The fairies danced with us, zipping around, lighting up her face with different hues. She didn’t look away for long stretches. I held her gaze when I could. Two songs later, I saluted Grula, and she slowed the music.

The fairies winked out, and it was just the two of us in the solitary lamplight — the two of us and the infinite stars. I pulled her in and she rested her face on my chest, as we swayed and caught our breath.

Alright Zachary. You don’t have to fake this. Just be the guy you want to be.

“I just realized that you’re still wearing those heels. How the hell do you dance in those?”

“Practice. The cape looks nice!”

“Thanks! It’s a loaner.”

“Good to know. I’ll have to be careful with it when I take it off.”

“Careful Miss Bernadette. Don’t want to write a check your mouth can’t cash.”

Was that how that saying went? Actually, I think it was something else, but I had to roll with it.

“Oh? And what makes you think you know what my mouth can do?”

I hoped I’d disguised the shiver that went down my spine.

“I’m well acquainted with your mouth, thank you very much,” I said without missing a beat.

“I know what I’m about,” she said, looking up at me. “You ain’t acquainted with anything yet.”

I chuckled softly. This girl had my head spinning. We danced quietly for some time, then I led her back to the table.

“Thanks, Grula,” she said.

Grula gave her a wink then sat on a barrel with the violin in her lap. She gazed out at the ocean, and let us talk. The wind was our only accompaniment.

“What do you plan to do when we get back?” I asked. No use delaying this conversation any longer. As fun as we were having, we had to have it at some point.

Bernadette took a deep breath, pausing to think, her chest swelling like they do in a corset. Tactfully, I looked at her face. Because I’m classy like that.

“I plan on doing what I’d been working for, graduating, see if I can land a Broadway show.”

“Amazing.”

“It’s been a dream since forever. What about you?”

“Guess I’ll go back to work. Assuming no time has passed.”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t think about that. Well, I could try Broadway without graduating.”

“What if that doesn’t work out? What’s your backup plan?”

“Why do I need a backup plan? I’m gonna make it happen, hell or highwater. What’s yours?”

“Oh.” It was my turn to think. My bosom presumably didn’t swell like hers, so I tried for a pensive look.

“I don’t have a big dream.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean,” I said with some trepidation. This made me look like I didn’t have much going on. “I’m different now. I’m not sure I’d be happy with my old job. But I don’t know what I’d do otherwise. Maybe I’d try my hand at writing, like Caleb did? Chronicle our adventures.”

“I didn’t know you were a writer,” she said, putting her chin in her hand.

“I could be. I mean I did some work for the college paper, so I’m out of practice, but I think I could be.”

“For most men, saying ‘I could be’ would be a red flag,” she said, her brown eyes filled with concern. “But I believe you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen you come alive here, kick ass. Maybe you could be anyone you wanted. Who do you want to be?”

My mind quickly searched through the options that came to mind. First was that I wanted to be the man she wanted me to be. But I didn’t know what that was. And what if she wanted me to be someone I didn’t recognize? Second, I thought I wanted to be a man like Caleb, someone with a family, someone strong. But then I remembered what his daughter just did, and I wasn’t sure I wanted that either.

I was an only child. Maybe that was his problem. One too many kids.

I answered honestly.

“I think I’m on my way to figuring that out,” I said, then paused, unsure about the next part, but barreling through. “Do you want kids?”

“Holy shit, Zachary!” she said, sitting back.

“What?”

“I’m not sure that’s a first date question. Plus, I’m fucking 20. What do I know about that kind of stuff?”

“Well, pretend I’m just the guy that has your back in a fight, and not your date.”

“I’m not sure that makes this easier,” she said. She looked out at the ocean. I let myself notice the curve of her neck. “I don’t know. It sort of ruined my mom. So, probably not.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Now I know.”

“You want kids?” she asked.

“I think I could. But I think I want you more.”

“You can’t just come out, and say things like that, Zachary.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s the kind of shit boys say when they want in your pants.”

“Good thing you’re wearing a dress.”

“Shut up!”

“What?”

She put her hand on the table. That was an invitation. I took it.

“You’re just so fucking cool,” I said.

“No, I’m not,” she said. “You just think I’m pretty. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough to know I like what I do know.”

“Yeah? What do you know?”

“I know you’re ruthless.”

“Of course,” she said with a small smile.

“I know you care so much about keeping us safe.”

“What if I’m just doing that to go home?”

“I’ve been told a woman can be more than one thing.”

“Very wise,” she said. She drained the last of her wine. Her eyes flicked to the mostly full wine bottle, then to my half full glass.

“You want some of mine?” I asked, holding up my glass.

She slinked around the table and grabbed the glass. She then managed to sit in my lap without spilling a drop. I put my arms around her to steady her, and our faces remained close.

“Sure,” she said, taking a sip, “what else do you know about me?”

“I know you’re fiercely loyal. You don’t trust easy, but you trust me. And that means a lot.”

“Mhmm.”

“I know you don’t like to explain yourself. And you keep your secrets when maybe you could stand to be more forthcoming.”

“Maybe.”

“I know you work hard to get others to like you, but I’m not sure you should bother. Anyone that doesn’t like you isn’t worth a dime.”

“I thought I made it look effortless.”

“Working hard is a good thing.”

“What would you know about a good thing?” she stood and walked back to her spot with my wine glass. I swallowed significantly, and grabbed her empty one. I know they told me not to get drunk, but I wanted some just in case.

I poured another half glass.

Bernadette smirked, and took a second sip from mine.

The wind blew in. I tried to keep my head on straight. It wasn’t just the wine that had my head spinning.

“Why are you so keen to get back home?” she asked. “It seems to me like there may be more for you here.”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Having to fight all the time sucks. I just got kidnapped and drugged. Here ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

This time her laugh was darker, less light.

“But if you stay here,” she offered, “you could have your pick of the Berryhops and bartenders of this world. You could be rich. That has its own appeal, yeah?”

I took a sip of wine, and rubbed my chin.

This question seemed like some sort of test. But I was too stupid to figure out what it was about. Did I want to stay here? Maybe? Caleb seemed to have it pretty good. And Sofia… well she needed me right? Someone had to advocate for her.

Wait. Was that what this was about? Was she trying to see if I still had feelings for Sofia? I mean, I did, but I don’t think that mattered. If I still wanted Sofia more than her, I’d have left when I had the chance.

I loved Bernie, whatever that meant, whoever she was. I knew that much.

I stood, and walked to her.

“I don’t really get what this is about, but I’m with you. Wherever this goes.”

“This isn’t some sort of test,” she said. “You should go where you want. Where do you want to be?”

“I want to be with you.”

“Yeah, now, but what about later?”

“What about later? I could die later. I don’t know what comes next. But I know I want to face it next to you.”

I wish I knew what was going on in her head.

Her eyes, brown and soft and beautiful, they looked into mine and I saw something happen behind them that didn’t make sense. Was she angry? Was she upset?

Then she smiled, wide.

She drained the last of my wine, stood, and took my hand.

We walked together, and as we did, she slid her slate out of a pocket in her dress, and fired off a text to Braelyn. I couldn’t help seeing it.

Shade: headed to Caleb’s room. Don’t bother us til sunrise