Chapter 22: A long Week

Juhtmed woke up to the sound of shouting. At first, he thought it was an emergency—something terrible, like the ship sinking or a sea monster attacking. Then he actually listened.

"YOU CALL THAT A KNOT? I'VE SEEN SEAWEED HOLD BETTER THAN THAT!"

It was just the crew.

Juhtmed groaned, rolling over and immediately regretting it as the nausea hit him like a hammer. The rocking of the ship had not gotten any better overnight. If anything, it felt worse.

He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on breathing through his nose. The only thing keeping him from curling into a miserable ball was the knowledge that if he didn't show up on deck soon, Jaska would come looking for him. And Jaska had far too much energy for someone who spent all day under the sun.

Grumbling, he forced himself up and trudged out of his cabin, gripping the walls for support as the ship lurched beneath him.

The morning air hit him like a splash of cold water—brisk, salty, and far too fresh for someone who still felt half-dead. The crew bustled about, hauling ropes and shouting orders, their movements smooth and practiced.

Jaska spotted him immediately. "Look who's still alive!"

Juhtmed scowled. "Barely."

Jaska grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders, nearly knocking him over. "That's the spirit! Now come on, Captain says you're still on deck duty."

Juhtmed groaned. "You mean slave labor."

"Hey, don't insult slave labor. They usually know what they're doing."

Juhtmed elbowed him in the ribs, but Jaska only laughed, dragging him toward the ropes. Lian was already there, leaning against the mast with her arms crossed.

"Oh good," she said. "I was worried Jaska would have to drag you out of bed."

"He nearly did."

She smirked. "And yet, here you are."

Juhtmed sighed, rubbing his temples. "Just tell me what humiliating task I have to do today."

Jaska clapped him on the back. "Deck scrubbing!"

Juhtmed closed his eyes. "I hate this ship."

Jaska laughed. "Come on, Your Highness, grab a brush. The deck won't clean itself."

For the next two hours, Juhtmed scrubbed. He hadn't scrubbed so much as a dish in his old life, let alone an entire deck, and his back was already protesting. Worse, every time he got into a rhythm, the ship would tilt just enough to throw him off balance, sending him sprawling like an idiot.

The crew found this very amusing.

Lian, of course, offered no help. She stood nearby, watching with a smirk, only stepping in when he looked particularly close to passing out.

Jaska was even worse. At one point, he actually leaned against a barrel and started giving commentary.

"You see, men, this is what we call noble effort. He tries, but his delicate princely hands just aren't made for hard labor—oh, there he goes again!"

Juhtmed shot him a glare from where he had once again landed on his backside. "I hope you fall overboard."

Jaska grinned. "Nah, I'm too useful. The ship needs me."

Juhtmed muttered a curse under his breath and forced himself back up. His arms burned, his stomach still hadn't fully recovered from the seasickness, and he was pretty sure he smelled like salt, sweat, and misery.

By the time midday rolled around, he was exhausted. He collapsed against the railing, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Is this enough suffering for today?"

Jaska pretended to think about it. "Hmm. No."

Lian finally took pity on him. "I think that's enough for now. Come on, let's get some food in you before you actually keel over."

Juhtmed didn't argue. He followed her toward the galley, Jaska trailing behind, still grinning like he had just witnessed the funniest thing in his life.

The galley was dimly lit, warm, and smelled just edible enough to remind Juhtmed how hungry he was. He sat heavily on a bench, stretching out his legs as Lian handed him a bowl of stew.

He eyed it warily. "What is it?"

Lian shrugged. "Food."

Jaska plopped down beside him. "Eat it quick before you start questioning what's in it."

Juhtmed decided not to think about it too much and took a careful bite. It was salty, vaguely fishy, and had the consistency of something that had been cooked for way too long.

It was terrible.

But it was also warm, and after spending the morning nearly falling on his face, he wasn't about to be picky.

"So," Jaska said between mouthfuls, "how's life at sea treating you, Your Highness?"

Juhtmed scowled. "I hate it."

Jaska grinned. "That bad, huh?"

"It's awful. It never stops moving. I haven't had a single moment where I felt steady since we set sail." He dropped his spoon into his bowl with a sigh. "And it doesn't help that I keep making an idiot of myself."

Jaska snorted. "Eh. Everyone starts out that way."

Juhtmed raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Even you?"

Jaska leaned back, grinning. "Oh, absolutely. My first time on a ship, I threw up on the captain's boots."

Juhtmed blinked. Then, before he could stop himself—he laughed.

It was a short, breathy sound, but it caught him off guard. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed like that.

Jaska grinned. "See? You're not doing so bad."

Juhtmed shook his head, still smiling slightly. "I think the captain would throw me overboard if I did that."

"Oh, definitely," Jaska agreed cheerfully. "But hey, at least you're surviving."

Juhtmed sighed, leaning back against the wall. He was still miserable, still exhausted, but… maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't die before the ship reached Kümme.

Lian smirked. "You're adjusting."

Juhtmed groaned. "That's a strong word."

Jaska clapped him on the back. "Don't worry, Your Highness. Give it a few more days, and you'll be one of us."

Juhtmed highly doubted that.

But as the ship rocked beneath him, as the voices of the crew filled the air around him, and as he sat at a table surrounded by people who—despite everything—treated him as something other than a prince, he thought…

Maybe this wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Maybe, for the first time in a long time, he wasn't completely alone.

By the time Juhtmed dragged himself back onto the deck, the sun was high overhead, the waves were calm, and—most importantly—he had managed to keep his food down.

A personal victory.

Unfortunately, his temporary reprieve was short-lived.

"Back to work, Your Highness!" Jaska's cheerful voice rang out across the deck. "The ropes don't tie themselves."

Juhtmed resisted the urge to groan. "You enjoy this, don't you?"

"Oh, absolutely." Jaska tossed him a length of rope. "Now, show me that beautiful knot work of yours."

Juhtmed barely caught the rope before it smacked him in the face. He scowled but grudgingly started tying the bowline knot Jaska had been drilling into his head for the past two days.

The crew had gathered nearby, watching with open amusement. Juhtmed could hear their hushed murmurs, the barely restrained laughter. Apparently, his struggles had become daily entertainment.

He ignored them, focusing on the knot in front of him. Loop, twist, tuck—

The rope slipped.

Jaska leaned over his shoulder. "...That's impressively bad."

Juhtmed groaned. "I swear I'm doing it right."

Jaska patted him on the back. "You're doing something. Not sure if it's right, though."

Lian, who had been watching from her usual spot near the mast, finally took pity on him. "Here." She stepped forward and plucked the rope from his hands. "Watch."

She moved quickly, her fingers deftly weaving the rope into a perfect knot before handing it back to him. "Now, do that."

Juhtmed sighed. "Right. No pressure."

He tried again. And again. And again.

By the fifth attempt, he finally managed something that vaguely resembled Lian's knot. It wasn't perfect, but at least it held together.

Jaska gave it an exaggerated inspection, tugging at the loops with an unnecessary amount of force. Finally, he grinned. "Hey! It might not kill someone! Progress!"

Juhtmed glared at him. "I hate you."

Jaska patted his shoulder. "You say that, but I know deep down you'd be lost without me."

Juhtmed sighed and tossed the rope at his face.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way. Juhtmed spent hours tying knots, untying them, tying them again—only to have Jaska critique every single one. The work was exhausting, his hands ached, and he had more blisters than he cared to count.

But, despite it all, he felt… slightly less useless.

Just slightly.

By the time the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting golden light across the water, Juhtmed was ready to collapse.

Lian nudged him as he slumped against the railing. "You survived another day."

"Barely."

Jaska plopped down next to him, stretching his arms behind his head. "See? You're already improving. You might actually be useful by the time we reach Kümme."

Juhtmed sighed. "That's so reassuring."

Jaska grinned. "Glad to help."

Lian smirked. "At least you don't look like you're about to vomit anymore."

Juhtmed rolled his eyes. "Small victories."

The ship rocked gently beneath them, the crew still moving about, voices blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves. For the first time since setting sail, Juhtmed didn't feel completely out of place.

Still seasick. Still exhausted. But… maybe, just maybe, he was getting used to it.

A terrifying thought.

Jaska nudged him. "Same time tomorrow?"

Juhtmed groaned. "I hate this ship."

Lian laughed. "You'll miss it when we're on land."

Juhtmed highly doubted that.

But, for now, he let himself breathe. The journey was far from over.