© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
There, there, Katherine,” Amara says, gently rubbing Kat’s back as she bends over the gunwale in the throes of seasickness. “You’re alright.”
“I hate the ocean,” Kat groans, slumping back against the gunwale.
Annie cups up from below deck and hurries over to Kat with a mug.
“Here, Kat,” she says, holding up a mug for Kat. “We made you some stomach medicine.”
Kat groans again. “You couldn’t be a little faster?” she asks.
“I couldn’t find the ginger,” Annie says timidly.
“No,” Kat says. “It’s okay. Thanks, Annie.”
“Amara,” Kat asks weakly. “Can I put my head on your shoulder?”
“Of course, Katherine,” Amara says, sitting down beside Kat.
“What’s their story?” Kat asks, looking across the deck.
“That’s Maria-Theresa, the Countess Dirigible,” Amara explains. “She’s funding the University’s expedition to the island. That man with her is Sir Francis Crossword.”
“Like the Crossword Puzzle guy?” Kat asks.
“The very same,” Amara answers. “He’s one of Realmgard’s most brilliant minds and a prolific inventor. And, of course, quite famous as he Countess’ beau. Oh, the gossip that’s always whirling around them!”
Meanwhile, across the ship’s deck, gazing out at the sunset, Maria-Theresa, the Countess Dirigible stands beside Sir Francis Crossword.”
“This is quite exciting, isn’t it, my dear Francis?” Maria-Theresa asks. “I’ve never been on expedition before. But then, I am funding the whole affair. It’s only right and proper that I’m here to oversee this business and ensure I get the most out of my investment.”
She grins at him and loops her arm around his.
“And I must say, the whole voyage is proving rather, dare I say, romantic?” she muses hopefully. “The ocean air, that beautiful sunset. The prospect of two sweethearts like us faring off into the unknown.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Are you listening, Francis?” she asks.
She scowls and lightly jabs him in the ribs with her parasol.
“Francis!”
“I’m sorry,” Francis mutters, rubbing his jabbed ribs. “I was thinking over the logistics of of a better mousetrap. If, for example, we were to drop a tiny net on the mouse —”
He falters as he sees the look on her face.
“Ahem,” he say bashfully. “You were saying?”
“I was saying how romantic this whole affair was seeming,” she says with a pout. “But now you’ve gone and spurned me.”
“I could never spurn you,” he protests. “Surely not you, most supremely, sublimely beautiful and lovely flower of all womanhood.”
“Keep going,” Maria-Theresa says. “You’ve almost made amends.”
“My truest and dearest love.”
“Oh, Francis,” Maria-Theresa says. “I can never stay mad at you. And good thing, too. No other woman on Terrace could put up with you. I hope you realise just how lucky you are to have me.”
“Of course, my dear.”
Maria-Theresa throws her arms around Francis and pulls him close into a tight embrace.
“Gross,” Kat mutters from the other side of the deck.
Silhouetted by the sunset, they embrace for a long, silent moment.
“Francis,” Maria-Theresa says. “Are you still thinking about better mousetraps?”
“… No.”
“Francis.”
More Realmgard Short Scenes here.
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