Free Unspeakable by Caroline Pignat

He’s not going to like this.”
    The shaft of light travelled up the deck close to where we hid and we crouched lower. In the beam, I saw a great chocolate handprint from where Jim had been leaning. He saw it too and clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, leaving yet another handprint across his face.
    Maybe it was all that chocolate, or the fact that I was so overtired, maybe it was nerves—what would happen when Gaade found me like this? But even that sobering thought only made me giggle all the more.
    The ray of light drew closer and so did the footsteps. And just when I thought we were done for, a thud on the far side of the deck drew them away.

    â€œCome on!” Jim whispered, and glancing at John way up in his crow’s nest waving us down the left side of the mast, we scurried from shadow to shadow.
    â€œWhat is it?” Gaade’s voice snapped on the other side.
    The night steward stood. “A chocolate bar, sir.”
    â€œLooks like I owe John a few more,” Jim whispered.
    â€œYes, well, I can see that, man,” Gaade continued, “but the question remains, how in the blazes did it get here? And who the hell put this table—”
    We bolted for the doors and slipped through them into the dimly lit hall, our chests heaving. Jim eyed me and smiled. “You’re a mess.”
    â€œYou should talk.” His devilish grin was splattered and smeared with chocolate like a child caught licking the cake bowl.
    He ran a finger down my cheek and popped it in his mouth.
    â€œYou look good in chocolate,” he said. “It brings out your eyes.”
    I punched his shoulder.
    â€œWell, unless you want to get caught brown-handed, you may want to get moving before Gaade is back inside.”
    â€œThanks, Jim. For everything.”
    He smiled. That smile. God, my very heart felt like melting chocolate.
    â€œI think,” he said, heading for the stairs down to his quarters, “I may just stick with the sugar cube thing next time.”
    Next time .
    I tiptoed down the hallway, careful not to touch anythingas I entered the lavatory. Jim was right, I was a mess. I cleaned my face, spot-washed my coat, and left it hanging on the back of the door. On my way back to my room, I ran into Gaade.
    â€œEllen?” He seemed shocked to find me in my nightgown in the hall, hair still wet from where I’d washed my face. “What are you doing up?”
    â€œUm, upset stomach, sir. I didn’t want to wake the girls.” I’d been seasick a few times on our first runs. But that was weeks ago. I wasn’t sure if he’d believe it, but he seemed too frazzled from the nighttime capers to be worried about my upset stomach.
    He glanced down the hallway. “Did you see anything … unusual tonight?”
    Like a chocolate-covered stoker?
    A giggle bubbled up and I gripped my mouth in panic before running back to the lavatory. Slamming the door shut, I leaned on it, heart pumping, leaving Gaade wondering exactly what kind of a ship he was running.
    Gaade never did discover who had moved a first-class table and chairs to the deck that night, but at the next muster roll, he’d given us all a warning to keep a level eye out for anything unusual and threatened us with severe consequences for assisting. “No tip, no bribe is worth losing your job.” Clearly he’d assumed it was the work of some first-class passenger with more money than sense. Gaade made it quite clear that he ran a tight ship. “For the Empress is no place for shenanigans.”
    But our shenanigans continued.

    Every night after, I’d find Jim at our rail. Or he’d find me. With Gaade’s diligent watch, we had to be more cautious, settling for furniture already on the deck. Some nights we lay side by side in our deck chairs watching the stars that speckled across the dark dome of sky. It made me feel small and invisible and at the same time filled me