As they stepped onto the deck, the scent of salt and sea filled Celestia's lungs, the gentle yet rhythmic rocking of the ship against the waves grounding her in the present. The lanterns hanging from the mast flickered against the cool night breeze, casting shifting shadows across the deck.
From the helm, Tio heard the door creak open and instinctively glanced down. His eyes widened the moment he saw Celestia.
"Holy shit, are you okay?" His voice carried a mix of shock and relief as he bolted down the wooden stairs, boots thudding against the planks.
Celestia offered a small smile, brushing a stray strand of white hair behind her ear. "Honestly, I feel completely fine… But is it true? Are we really on course for Blossom's Bloom?"
Tio exhaled, slowing his hurried steps as he nodded. "Yeah. We'll be there by morning." He checked the brass watch strapped to his wrist, its face reflecting the moonlight. "About four hours left until we dock at Blossom's Port. Why?"
Celestia didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned to the railing, resting her hands on the smooth wood as she gazed out at the endless ocean. The moon's silver glow shimmered on the restless waves, stretching far beyond the horizon.
"It's nothing… Just—while we're there, there are a few things I need to take care of." Her voice carried a distant weight, as though her mind was drifting elsewhere. She exhaled softly, then turned back to him. "Where's Rosaline?"
Tio rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes shifting toward the lower deck. "Last I saw her, she went below deck to her room. That was a few hours ago." He pivoted on his heel and headed back up the stairs, resuming his place at the helm. With a firm grip on the wheel, he made a slight adjustment to their course.
A gust of wind ran across the deck, whipping Celestia's hair around her shoulders. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the cool air wash over her, then turned away and made her way below deck. The ship groaned softly as it cut through the ocean, the sound of waves colliding against the wooden hull echoing in the dimly lit corridors.
Her footsteps were light against the creaky floorboards as she navigated the narrow passageway, hands clasped behind her back. When she reached Rosaline's door, she knocked gently against the wood.
A faint rustling came from inside, followed by the scratch of a pen against parchment.
"What is it?" Rosaline's voice was calm but distracted.
Celestia tilted her head slightly. "Is she writing something?"
Clearing her throat, she spoke. "Can I come in?"
There was a brief pause before the soft scrape of a chair moving backward. A second later, the door swung open, revealing Rosaline standing there. Her violet eyes flickered slightly under the lantern's glow.
"Come in," she said simply before stepping aside.
Celestia entered, letting her hands fall to her sides. A desk sat against the far wall, a candle burning beside scattered papers, though one particular sheet seemed to have been written on recently. Rosaline shut the door behind her and sat on the bed, her expression unreadable.
"Are you okay? No fatigue? No pain? No dizziness? Nothing at all, right?" Rosaline fired off her concerns and added an extra seven questions in rapid succession, barely pausing for a breath.
Celestia blinked at the onslaught before letting out a small chuckle. "Y-yes! I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry so much." She let a teasing lilt slip into her voice before shifting her gaze to the paper on the desk. "But what about you? What have you been up to?"
As soon as her eyes landed on the parchment, Rosaline's expression shifted. A flash of something—surprise, maybe even panic—passed through her gaze.
Before Celestia could read anything, she snatched the paper with quick precision, crumpling it in her fist. Without hesitation, she strode toward the small window, unlatched it, and let the balled-up parchment be swallowed by the night wind.
Celestia's brow furrowed. She followed the paper's descent for a second before slowly turning back to Rosaline.
"...What was written on that?"
Rosaline's violet eyes remained locked on the window, watching as the paper vanished into the dark abyss of the ocean. But she didn't answer.
Rosaline exhaled deeply, her violet eyes flickering with something unreadable before she turned back around. "Nothing to be concerned with. That's for sure." She forced a smile, though the tension in her shoulders lingered. With a quiet click, she secured the window latch before walking back to the bed, settling onto the edge with a sigh.
Celestia watched her for a moment before leaning back in the wooden chair near the desk, shifting slightly until she found a comfortable position. The chair creaked softly beneath her. Closing her eyes, she spoke.
"So… what all has happened since I've been in my coma?" Her voice was calm, yet laced with an undertone of quiet anticipation.
Rosaline's gaze flickered toward her. "Well…" She folded her arms, glancing down as if retracing the past few months in her mind. "We visited two doctors on Velmara, but neither of them knew anything. So, while we were stuck there, we had to repair the ship. That took a month on its own."
Celestia listened in silence, taking in every word.
"After that, we searched through a few smaller islands known for their medical knowledge—herbalists, alchemists, you name it. But again, nothing. That's when our medic mentioned a palce of his in Blossom's Bloom. He said if he could help, his stuff would be there. We've been on course ever since. Three months to be exact."
Celestia hummed in response, eyes still closed. "I see…" A small smile tugged at her lips. "Well, I suppose that works out perfectly. I have a few things to take care of while we're here."
Rosaline tilted her head slightly. "Like what?"
Celestia opened her eyes and turned her gaze toward her. "First? I need to go home. To see my parents."
"Parents, huh?" Rosaline leaned back on her hands, watching Celestia curiously. "What are they like?"
A dry chuckle escaped Celestia's lips as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Honestly? They don't even know I'm alive."
Rosaline blinked. "...What?"
"The last time I was here, I faked my death with my brother's help. So unless he let something slip, they still believe I'm long gone."
Rosaline frowned, sitting up straighter. "Why would you do that?"
Celestia let out a breath, fingers idly tracing the grain of the wooden desk. "They wanted to use me. To arrange a political marriage that would 'strengthen our household name.' Or some bullshit like that." She waved a hand dismissively. "Either way, I wasn't interested. So at first, I ran away. Then I met up with my brother, we had a bit of a… sibling fight." She smirked, but there was something sharp beneath it. "Which I believe did nearly kill me, by the way."
Rosaline's eyes widened slightly.
"But afterward, we talked. I told him what I really wanted—to be free, to carve my own path, to become a hero so powerful that I could save the world from all crime." Celestia smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Obviously, my family didn't like that idea. So, we came up with another plan—one where they wouldn't chase after me."
Rosaline was quiet for a moment, processing the weight of what she'd just heard. "I… I see," she murmured. "That does sound awful. I can't imagine being forced into marriage just for political gain."
Celestia glanced at her, expression unreadable.
'I can't tell her the truth just yet…'
Her fingers curled slightly against the armrest.
'I need her to completely trust me in any situation... no matter what.'
A flicker of amusement crossed her face before she let out a quiet chuckle, tilting her head back to stare at the wooden ceiling.
Rosaline sighed and shifted, finally lying back on the bed. "Still… faking your death over that is a lot. But… I guess I can see where you're coming from?" she said uncertainly.