Chapter 367:
Marina
This is the famous Devil of the Seas?
The way they speak of him,I expected... more.
He's tall, yes. Slender. Dressed in black from head to toe.
He smiles, and it reminds me of a cat toying with its prey.
My heart skips a beat.
I suppose he is handsome.
He claps his hands. "What are you all standing around for? They are my guests!"
Men in black coats rush forward. A table appears. Chairs. A white tablecloth that seems impossible on a ship. Plates that look like porcelain. Glasses that catch the lantern light.
At the head of the table is a chair higher than the rest—practically a throne. He plops into it, boots up on the armrest, looking for all the world like a king entertaining peasants.
"Help yourselves," he says.
Servants bring out food. Roasted bird of some kind. Fresh bread still steaming. Soups and stews and dishes I've never seen before. Fruits that don't grow in this climate. The smell makes my stomach growl.
I take a seat. I'm starving.
