The Lady Captain Read online

“And still I fail to see the problem!” Julian suddenly clapped a hand on the younger man's back. He was probably one of the few people who could get away with treating the prince so informally. “Let me give you some advice, Nico. Older women. Younger women. They're all equally enticing and I value them for different reasons. No... I treasure them. So if I was to, say, officially court your sister, it wouldn't be a bad thing.”

  “No. You're right. It wouldn't.” The prince looked a bit disgusted as he studied the man who walked beside him. “It'd be a terrible thing. So please leave her alone.”

  Julian sighed deeply. “Alright.”

  “I mean it! Don't come around her and don't bother her again! I don't want you thinking about my little sister in... that way.”

  “Alright, alright!” Julian smiled innocently. “From now on, in my mind, your sister wears the chastity belt of chastity belts. I'll never go knocking on her knickers, and I'll never think another impure thought about Isabella for as long as I live!”

  Nico groaned. “So that means you have been thinking impure thoughts about her!”

  “Only on occasion. Don't fret.” When they reached the palace garden, Julian wished it was the princess at his side, not the prince. Nico was remarkably adept at killing his joy. “Now... did you really have something to say to me, or did you just want to lecture me about Isabella? Because if you're done, I'm done.”

  “I do have something to say. I need a... a favor.”

  “You sure do ask for a lot of favors.” With a grunt, Julian added, “Your Highness.”

  “The next time your airship departs, I need you to take me to the city of Baltmoor. I have... business there.”

  Nico's request was hardly surprising, not after the empress told him to expect it. While the prospect of Nico's company was hardly thrilling, Julian wanted his reward. “Dare I ask what kind of business?”

  “My business is none of your business!” Nico realized his answer sounded harsh, which probably wasn't the best way to ask for a favor, so he softened his voice and confessed, “Actually there's a, uh... a woman.”

  Both of Julian's eyebrows shot to his forehead. “A woman?”

  “Yes! A woman. A girl. A barmaid,” Nico explained. “The last time I was in Baltmoor, I saw her. She was the loveliest girl I've ever seen, and I need to see her again.”

  Nico looked embarrassed by his confession, so Julian gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You don't need to be ashamed. Believe me, I understand your reason for wanting to get to Baltmoor, Nico. I understand perfectly! Women are, by far, the best reason in the world!” Julian suddenly plucked a violet and twirled it between his fingers. “So... does this barmaid happen to have any lovely friends? Some young ladies waiting to be plucked? Or some older woman who wouldn't object to a tumble? I'm not picky, but I do need something to keep me entertained while I'm there.”

  “Well, there were other barmaids in the tavern. But none of them are as beautiful as Celia.”

  “And Celia is off-limits. I get it. I understand. As a man and as your friend, I know my place. Celia is yours.” Julian stored the violet in the pocket of his greatcoat. “But everyone else is fair game.”

  Judging from the listlessness in Prince Nico's eyes, he was getting impatient with his companion. “So will you take me to Baltmoor or not?”

  “Yes! Of course. I'd never stand in the way of young love... or any kind of love, for that matter. Young love, old love, wildly mismatched love. All love is good love, my friend!” Julian coiled an arm around the prince's shoulders and steered him back to the palace. “I'm departing within the hour. Can you be ready by then?”

  “I can be ready in less than that. I've already packed my belongings. I just need to fetch my bag.”

  “Good good good. You'd best be on your way, then. Go grab your little bag, and I'll wait for you at the skyport.”

  The eager prince was gone in an instant. Julian bared his teeth as he watched him go. The prince was a nag and a pest, but he would find some way to endure it.

  He hoped the empress' reward would be worth it.

  Three

  “Aaaand... liftoff!” Julian exclaimed. When he swung his walking stick and pointed it at the helmsman, he put Nico in mind of an impresario conducting a symphony. As the airship's propellers whirred to life, Julian's eyes were frenetic. His head bobbed back and forth, as if the hum of the propellers and whistling steam engine were music to him. “Ahh! There's no place I'd rather be than on an airship, Nico!” Julian slapped and squeezed the young prince's shoulder. “Well... aside from a woman's arms, I suppose.”

  “It is exciting,” Nico quietly agreed as the ship ascended to the clouds. “How long 'til we're in Baltmoor?”

  “Don't worry about the destination, Nico! Just enjoy the ride! And that's good advice for any occasion, come to think of it.” Julian tapped Nico's chin with his walking stick. Then he realized the prince was glaring at him, so he apathetically added, “Twenty minutes.”

  “Good. That's not long at all.” The airship continued to ascend. As they plowed through a gaggle of geese, Nico winced. He didn't want to see any birds get hurt. “So... why do you carry that thing around?”

  “Thing?” Julian's eyebrow raised. “To what thing are you referring, my young friend?”

  “That.” Nico pointed at Julian's walking stick. “Is it for decoration, or...?”

  “Have you no sense for fashion, Your Highness? It's very stylish!” Julian raised the walking stick, kissing the end of it. “But actually... it does serve a purpose.” There was a loud click as Julian pushed a button. When the tip of the walking stick transformed into the muzzle of a rifle, Nico looked surprised.

  Julian suddenly fired the gun, which had his crewmen yelping, ducking, and scrambling for cover. Nico had to wonder if there was a reason for their excessively panicked reaction. Was Julian Featherstone a reckless captain?

  “Oh dear...” Julian murmured. “I think I hit that post over there.” He pointed at a wooden support pillar—or what was left of it. There was no disputing that it was hit by Julian's wildly fired shot. It had been blown to bits. “Well... whatever it was, let's hope it wasn't too important.”

  Nico groaned. “I'm starting to wish I didn't come with you.”

  “What? Why? Don't be ridiculous!” Julian swatted the prince's leg with his walking stick. And because the stick was currently a gun, Nico gasped. “You're on the best airship in the world with the best captain in the world! You're lucky to be here.”

  “Best... captain...?” A doubtful Nico whispered the words. “Are you sure about that? Do you even know anything about airships?”

  “Yes! Of course! Well... a bit. I know when they're pretty and I know when they're not.” Julian chuckled at his answer, but he was the only one who sounded amused. “But why do I need to know about airships? As long as my men know what they're doing, they can do the hard work. A captain shouldn't have to do the heavy lifting, right?”

  Nico dragged a hand across his face. “God, you're hopeless.”

  “I'll let you in on a little secret, Nico. I've barely even flown this airship before!” Julian confessed with a smile, as if he had no shame. “And when I do fly it, I barely muddle through it. But let's be honest. Is there really any need for me to fly an airship? I say no. Why hire other men if I'm going to end up doing it myself? That would be pointless!”

  Nico rolled his eyes, turned around, and walked away, all while shaking his head with disbelief. He was glad he didn't have to ride with Julian for more than twenty minutes. The clueless captain didn't fill him with confidence.

  Before they reached town, Nico changed clothes. If he was going to blend in with the peasants, he needed to dress down. He wore a tatty brown coat, breeches with a hole in the knee, and a tan newsboy cap with a patch sewn into the fabric. When he reemerged from his changing room, Julian was sneering at him, which made Nico wonder if he looked too casual.

  “What the hell?” Julian laughed at him. “You l
ook like a beggar boy!”

  “Is it too much?”

  “No, no... you're fine!” The baron condescendingly patted the prince's arm. “And if I find any spare change in my pocket, I'll be sure to toss it your way.”

  Exactly twenty minutes after liftoff, they reached Baltmoor's skyport. When they disembarked, Julian was singing: “Flying down to Baltmoor's skypooort.” He practically danced past the docked airships as they headed through the port. “Heading down to the puuuub.” As he continued warbling, Nico expression was puzzled. “Gonna talk to the laaadiiiies.”

  Nico finally had to ask, “And why do you sound so happy?”

  “Life, Nico!” Julian raised his arms and shouted his answer to the sky. “Amazing, beautiful, chaotic life! You need to embrace it! Learn to love it! Seize the day!”

  “Are you drunk?” Nico asked. Then he spotted the flask sticking out of his companion's pocket. “Oh god, you are drunk! We haven't even reached the pub, and you're already intoxicated. Lovely.”

  “Nononono. What nonsense! I'm completely and perfectly sober! I'm just enjoying the moment.”

  As soon as they reached the pub, Nico tried to bolt, but his escape was unsuccessful. Julian seized his coat's collar and pulled him backward.

  “So... where is she?” Julian whispered. “Where's your Celia?”

  “Do you really need to know?” Nico groaned.

  “Of course I need to know! Because if I don't know who she is, I'll end up flirting with her, she'll fall for me, we'll leave the pub together, you'll cry and sulk for days and days and then you'll never speak to me again! I'd rather avoid such a tragedy.”

  “Fine.” Nico subtly bowed his head in the direction of the bar. “She's the barmaid with the black hair and the pigtails.”

  When he spotted the prince's target, Julian whistled his approval. “Good choice, my friend, good choice. She's got very...” Julian suspended his hands over his chest. He was going to describe her ample bust, but when he saw the pain in Nico's eyes, he amended himself. “Lovely hair. Uh huh. She's a very lovely girl. Now... are you going to talk to her, or are you going to gawk at her from the back of the room?”

  “I'm going to gawk at her from the back of the room,” Nico answered dryly. “I've actually never spoken to her before.”

  “What?” Julian gasped. “You're infatuated with this girl, and you haven't even summoned the stones to talk to her yet?”

  “No.” As Nico sank into the nearest chair, he looked ashamed of himself. “I just... can't. She's so beautiful, and I'm just...” Plain. Nico wasn't the most attractive lad in the world, or so he believed. Like his sister, his eyebrows were so thick, they were almost a distraction. His nose was too wide and his dark brown eyes were too small. Most people would agree that he was cute, but in a very ordinary way.

  “You're a prince, for god's sake! Can't you use that to your advantage?”

  “I'd rather not,” Nico sighed. “If I ever win her over, I'd like to do it without resorting to my status. Besides, I look nothing like a prince right now. You said I looked like a beggar boy!”

  “True. But even beggar boys need love. If you're lucky, she'll take pity on you.” Julian was chuckling as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to flirt with the other barmaids. Good luck with your, uhh... gawking.”

  Julian didn't waste time. Leaving the prince behind, he approached his first barmaid. His target was a middle-aged black woman with strong cheekbones and short pink hair. She was wiping down the counter with a sudsy rag as Julian swaggered toward her.

  “Hello there, lovely!” he jovially greeted her. “When I saw you, I had to speak to you. You're the most gorgeous woman in this room.”

  “Hogswallop,” the woman replied with a snort. Despite Julian's wide smile and overly friendly disposition, she didn't look especially happy to be bothered by him. “Please go away.”

  Her voice was deep and sonorous, and he liked it. “What's your name, beautiful?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Hmm. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Noneofyourbusiness. That's a very unusual name... and quite a mouthful! Would you mind if I shortened it? Maybe I can call you Non. Or Nonny?”

  “You think you're funny?” The barmaid glowered at him. “Sorry, but you're not funny. Please just vanish.”

  “Oh, you're probably right. I'm really not as clever as I think I am.” Julian's fingers drummed against the countertop as he planned his next move. He appreciated a challenge, but the woman behind the counter was especially resistance to his charms. “So what is your name? Give me something to work with!”

  Her upper lip curled. She looked disgusted with him. Nevertheless, she was more compliant this time. “My name's Vee. Short for Violet.”

  “Ah, so you have a flower's name!” Julian exclaimed. “How appropriate.”

  “No. It's not,” Vee objected. “It's not appropriate at all. I damn well hate it!”

  “Your hair should be violet,” When Julian tried to touch her hair, she slapped his hand away. “Not pink.”

  “It isn't pink.” Vee suddenly slammed a mug on the counter and filled it with ale. “It's magenta. And if you ever say it's pink again, I'll throttle you.”

  “You don't like the color pink?”

  “No.”

  “Is that for me?” Julian pointed at the frothy mug of ale.

  “No.”

  “Come on, sweetheart!” Julian removed his top hat and slowly dragged his fingers through his short brown locks. Women had a weakness for his hair—at least, they usually did. “Don't you think I'm at least a little bit handsome?”

  “No.”

  “Do you say anything besides no?”

  “No.”

  “Would you like to join me for supper this evening?”

  “No.”

  Julian was losing his patience. He took a deep breath and made another attempt at cracking her shell. “Does this tavern have good food?”

  He expected her to say yes, but instead he got another, “No.” And with a grunt, she added, “Now if you don't leave me alone, you'll live to regret it.”

  “Come on, Vee!” Julian leaned forward, rested his elbows against the counter, and tried to give her his sweetest smile. “Do you really have to be so unpleasant? I hate to point this out, but you're actually being rude to a customer! It's very off-putting, you know.”

  “I'll show you off-putting!” Vee picked up her shotgun, which was hidden behind the counter, and pointed it at Julian's forehead. “Go away, or I'll scatter your brains all over this counter!”

  “Alright, alright... damn!” Julian held up his hands and backed away from the bar. “You get your wish. I'll leave you alone!”

  Julian didn't often fail at seduction, and even when he did fail, he usually didn't fail so utterly. Fortunately, there were other women in the tavern, and at least one of them would be willing to soothe his hurt ego. Vee wasn't worth it. He abandoned his target and turned his attention to another barmaid.

  While Julian flirted with women, Nico wondered how to flirt. He cowered in the corner of the room, occasionally glancing in Celia's direction. One of the other barmaids took his order. Nico decided to get a stew, which ended up being bland and tasteless.

  Celia was often busy or surrounded by other barmaids, which made it difficult to find an opportunity to approach her. When the last bite of stew was down his throat, she was finally alone, so Nico made his move. His legs quivered as he made his way toward her, and when he stopped in front of her, he was tongue-tied. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her.

  “Can I help you, sir?” Celia asked.

  “Uh...” Her bright blue eyes had transfixed him.

  “Did you need something?”

  “Um... no. I mean... yes?” When he was alone, his head was filled with clever conversation starters. Now that he was standing in front of her, his wits had abandoned him. “I need a...uh... refill.”

  “A re
fill of what?”

  “Of, uh... beef stew?” Nico winced as he said it. He barely managed to choke down the first bowl. A second bowl would truly be a challenge.

  “Of course.” When Celia smiled at him, he nearly swooned. “Give me a minute, and I'll return to your table with your stew.”

  As Celia disappeared into the kitchen, the prince mumbled to himself, “I'm... Nico. I'm Nico! It's nice to see you. It's very nice to meet you.” Of course, he regained his ability to speak only after she was gone. With sinking shoulders, he returned to his table and fell into his chair. His hopes were thoroughly crushed.

  When Julian returned to Nico's table with a young blonde woman tucked under his arm, Nico felt even worse. Why couldn't it be that easy for him?

  “Well, Nico, I'm going to call it a day,” Julian said—which made the blonde barmaid giggle. Apparently, she giggled at everything he said, even when he wasn't remotely funny. “I know it's early, but I have a feeling... I'm going to need a lot of time with Erinea.”

  She giggled again.

  “Alright.” Nico sighed. “Have a good time.”

  “Oh, I'm sure I will!” Julian said, which made Erinea giggle even harder. “Meet me at the pub tomorrow, Nico, at precisely ten o'clock. I'll take you back home. If you need anything, go back to my ship and ask my men. I'm sure they'll be willing to help you.” Julian tipped his hat to the forlorn prince. “Goodbye, Your High... Nico.”

  “Your Highnico!” Erinea erupted in yet another fit of giggles when she repeated the nonsensical word. “Julian, you are just hilarious!”

  Nico's face was pinched with disgust as he watched them go. In his opinion, nothing about Julian Featherstone was hilarious. Or charming. He couldn't understand why Julian consistently succeeded with women—whereas Nico consistently failed.

  Julian was confident, Nico was shy, and that made all the difference. He couldn't even have a proper conversation with Celia. He wanted to slip from his chair, crawl beneath the table, and die from shame.

  Nico did fall out of his chair, but not from shame.

  Someone struck him in the back of the head with the butt of a shotgun, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.