I sat on a chaise lounge in the ship’s bow. It was after my shift, so I was out of costume. In my hands, I held Abandon All Hope. I had a pen with me, too, and I’d been making notes in the margins. I didn’t know if Adrian would actually still be receptive to my questions once he’d had time to reflect on our conversation, though. If anything, I expected him to become gruffer and more condescending after he’d had a chance to think about it. Alphas didn’t like looking vulnerable, although I doubted few people would ever mention vulnerability to someone like Adrian Lafayette.

“Elisabeth Egilsdóttir. She’s my new stepmother. You’d probably really like her; she’s a photojournalist and freelance photographer.”

I circled the name. Hadn’t Adrian said that Elizabeth was the name of Angelica’s mother? The similarity in names couldn’t be a coincidence, right? I bit the inside of my cheek. This reading for symbolism thing was hard.

“Oh.”

Jóhannes nods and walks over to a shelf of cashmere scarves. I pull a pale, winter-pink scarf from the pile and offer it to him. “This one,” I say.

Jóhannes smiles and takes it. His gaze trails over the scarves again. “Oh, look! It’s silver, your favorite,” he states.

He leans over the pile of clothing and grins mischievously. “Do you want it as part of your present? I don’t want Jólakötturinn to eat you.”

Jólakötturinn, the Yule Cat, is Jóhannes’ favorite Christmas tradition. The magical cat eats children, if they don’t receive new clothes for Christmas.

I scribbled “what’s with your weird Iceland obsession” in the margin and turned the page. A shadow fell across the book, so I tilted my head back. Angelica peered down at me. She wore a hot pink bathing suit and a long, white tutu emblazoned with golden stars. “I like your outfit,” I said. “Did you pick it out by yourself?”

Angelica gave a little twirl; her tutu flared around her and revealed sparkly, silver sandals. “Yep!” she exclaimed.

“Very impressive.”

She leaned against the back of the chaise lounge. “Dad says your real name is Lancelot, and you’re just being a pirate because you need money.”

“I think money is the reason most people turn to piracy,” I said.

Angelica wrinkled her nose and after a few seconds accepted the words with a nod. “That’s fair,” she said.

“And it’s actually just Lance,” I said, patting the chaise lounge beside me. “But don’t tell the other kids. It’ll be our secret.”

She hopped into the seat beside me. “Okay,” she said. “Oh. You’re reading Dad’s book.”

“Mmhm.”

“Dad says it’s too old for me,” Angelica replied.

I thought of the scene where Clarisa tied her boyfriend to the bed and did some very creative things with hot wax. “I think your dad is right,” I said. “Don’t worry. You’ll be old enough to read it someday, and then you’ll have blackmail material forever.”

“All the stuff he writes is too old for me, though, and I’m really smart. I have a very high reading level!”

Dear God, this kid was adorable. “I’m sure you do,” I replied. “What’s your favorite book?”

She wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. “I guess King Arthur,” she said. “I had this nanny before Joan that used to read all the stories to me, and she had the best evil witch laugh. She was a great storyteller. Kind of like you, I guess.”

“That’s cool. My…” I trailed off. I was going to say that my mom always read to me, and she’d been a good storyteller, too. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bring up my mom, though. Not to a child who’d so recently lost hers. “My aunt used to read to me. She was good like that, too.”

Angelica didn’t seem to notice the near slip-up. “I wish I was,” she said.

“I’m sure you’re better than you think, and you know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”

“I guess.”

“So, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“Maybe a veterinarian or the President,” Angelica said. “Or an astronaut. Dad says I can only be one of those things, though, so I have to choose.”

“Well, you have plenty of time,” I offered.

“When did you decide you wanted to be a pirate?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “I had some family trouble my first semester of college. I wanted to be an elementary school teacher, but I had to drop out. And I just didn’t feel like going back. Captain Sherri was a friend. Before I worked here, I worked at Claire’s, and she was my manager.”

“Oh! Did you do the ear piercings? I want to get my ears pierced, but I’m scared because it hurts.”

“It does hurt a little bit,” I admitted. “But I’m an adult, so it’s not so bad for me.”

Angelica nodded, and I stifled a laugh at just how serious her expression was.

“When did your dad decide he wanted to be a writer?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I think he’s always been one.”

I had the mental image of Adrian just emerging from the womb, pen in hand. “Maybe so,” I said. “I’m surprised you don’t want to be a princess. Adrian said you liked princesses.”

“He doesn’t like princesses, though,” Angelica said. “Actually, he doesn’t like anything.”

“I’m sure that isn’t true,” I said. “You’re probably his princess, and he just hasn’t told you.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “Sure. I think your dad just isn’t used to little girls. You are his first kid, after all. Parents aren’t perfect.”

“I know. It’s harder without Mom, too. Mom used to go shopping for all my clothes, but when my dad went to shop for clothes for me, he went to the teenager’s section,” Angelica said. “I’m ten. All their clothes are too big for me!”

“What a silly man,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ll have to go with him from now on to make sure he doesn’t get you clothes that don’t fit!”

Angelica nodded. “And he picks bad colors, too. Everything he picks out is pink and blue, and my favorite color is purple!”

I wondered if that was because Adrian had been too busy traveling to spend much time with his daughter, or if it was simply that Angelica, like most small children, had fickle tastes. I shook my head. “For shame,” I said.

“Yeah!”

Adrian walked up behind her and poked her forehead. “Hey!” she exclaimed.

“I think you’ve talked Sir Lancelot’s ear off enough here,” Adrian said.

“It’s Lance,” Angelica said.

“Come on,” Adrian said. “He’s trying to read.”

Angelica slid off the chaise lounge and crossed her arms. “You never let me have any fun,” she said.

“I know. I’m a complete dictator,” Adrian said.

“A what?” Angelica asked.

“A bad person,” I offered, “who tries to control other people.”

“Oh.”

“That’s right. Get going, squirt,” Adrian said. “We’re going to miss bingo.”

Angelica rolled her eyes and sighed, a gesture which I felt on a cosmic level. Ugh, bingo. Poor kid. Maybe I needed to suggest to Sherri that we do some pirate-themed activities during the evening just like we did in the mornings, especially if it meant children like Angelica were being doomed to playing bingo.

“What’s the deal with Iceland?” I asked.

Adrian smirked. “I’ll swing by later and we’ll talk about it.”

“Can I come?” Angelica asked.

“No. It’ll be an adult talk,” Adrian said.

Angelica frowned. “It’s always adult stuff,” she muttered.

“But we can do something later if your dad hasn’t made other plans,” I offered.

“If I don’t have other plans,” Adrian said.

Adrian leveled a fierce glare at me, and I had the sudden feeling that I’d really overstepped my boundaries. Was it because I’d made the offer? I hadn’t said we’d do anything without his permission. Surely there hadn’t been anything wrong with just raising the suggestion that we could do something?

“Let’s go,” Adrian growled, draping an arm over his daughter’s shoulders.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d definitely screwed up, and I had no idea how or why.

I thought for a few seconds that Adrian might take the door off with his knocking. When I opened it to let him in, Adrian swept past me. I hesitated a half-second before closing it.

“What the hell were you thinking with that?” Adrian asked.

“With what?”

“With my daughter! With inviting her to go do something with you?”

“I said if you allowed it,” I said.

“Yeah, and because you said that, if I don’t allow it, I’m now the bad guy! Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?”

Okay, he was really overreacting to the situation. I took a steadying breath. This was understandable. I could easily imagine how he might be overprotective of his daughter, especially since he didn’t know me that well. “I’m sorry,” I said.

Adrian had backed me against the kitchen counter.

“Back off,” I said.

Adrian did, although he looked far from assuaged. “How dare you?” he snapped.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just…I thought it might help. She looked a little upset.”

“She needs to learn that not everything has to involve her.”

“She just lost her mom! Maybe she’s feeling a little…”

“You’ve known her for less than a week. How dare you? It’s really easy to criticize when you aren’t a parent, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” I admitted. “But you know what I do know? I know that you are out of line in coming to my cabin screaming and trying to intimidate me! I messed up. Fine. But you’re blowing this way out of proportion! For heaven’s sake, you act like I abducted your daughter or something!”

Adrian scowled and turned away, running his hands through his hair. I waited for his anger to fade; if the slump of his shoulders and his tired sigh were any indication, it seemed to be winding down. I’d said my piece, and I’d let him say his. “Fuck,” he said.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I said nothing at all. We lapsed into silence which was awkwardly broken by my phone. I crossed the room to check it, but considering the call was from California, and I’d never been further west than Kentucky, it probably wasn’t anything legitimate.

“Do you need to take that?” Adrian asked.

“No, it’s probably someone wanting to sell me health insurance or a security system,” I replied, with a shrug.

“I really messed this up, didn’t I?” Adrian asked.

“Majorly.”

“I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I should’ve just…”

“Politely told me that it bothered you? Acted like the gentleman you clearly want to be?”

Adrian looked back at me. “Yes,” he said. “That’s what I should’ve done. I’m very sorry.”

I believed him, and furthermore, there was no need to keep persisting with an argument when he’d already conceded the point. “Yeah,” I said.

“Do you anger easily?” he asked. “This is the first time I’ve really had someone tell me off in a while.”

I offered a half-shrug. “Not really. I mean, I’m easily irritated, but not…angry. My mom was the same way. She had this philosophy about things. Whenever she was upset, she’d say, ‘if I die tomorrow, would I still care about this,’ and if the answer was ‘no,’ she’d let it go. Usually, it was.”

“That’s a decent philosophy,” Adrian said.

“I think so, and besides, I figure you’re going through a lot. That doesn’t excuse your actions, but I do understand why you’d be very protective of your daughter.”

“I’ll also admit that sometimes my temper gets the best of me, and clearly, that’s something I need to work on.”

“A little bit.”

Adrian smiled wryly. “Be careful that you don’t forgive everyone so easily,” he said.

I shrugged. “I’ve done well so far,” I said.

“What was it you wanted to ask before I came over to eviscerate you? Something about Iceland?”

“Yeah. Iceland.”

“I went there when I was working on the book,” Adrian said. “I liked the culture. People are very friendly in Iceland, and there’s…I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Europe.”

“No. I don’t have the money for that, and we don’t make international voyages.”

Adrian nodded. “Well, going to Europe makes you feel…well, it puts things into perspective. Here in America, a building from the eighteenth century is old, but in Europe everything is so much older. You really get a grasp of how long everything has been around when you’re overseas.”

“I imagine so. I would’ve never thought of going to Iceland, though. If I went anywhere, it would probably be Italy or Greece.”

“Good choices,” Adrian assured me.

“For the food,” I added.

“Hmm. That’s as good a reason as any,” Adrian replied.

“Thanks. Of course, there’s other things, too. I’ve heard it’s very beautiful in both countries.”

“That it is,” Adrian said. “But Iceland is also unexpectedly beautiful. Looking out at the sea and the whales. The way the ocean waves swell. Your eyes remind me a bit of Iceland actually. They’re the same sort of sad, profound grey.”

“You think my eyes are sad?”

“Just the color,” Adrian said. “That’s all. You are clearly anything but.”

I smiled. “So, are you going to start describing eye colors as ‘Iceland blue’?”

“Grey.”

“My eyes are just plain blue,” I said.

Adrian shook his head. “I’d call them grey. Like Athena’s eyes.”

I brightened. “Like in The Odyssey,” I said, “But I won’t tell you which translation. That way you can’t insult me.”

Adrian’s laughter boomed. “Emily Wilson,” he said. “Has the best translation in the world.”