“You know what? I think now I like living in the ship too,” said Coco.
“Hmm…” the princess smiled while sipping her hot chocolate really carefully.
“Do you think we can ask the captain if we can be the regular here? Rent that cabin, decorate it until it look half decent and live here?” Coco reached her mug, tempted by the satisfied look she saw on the princess’s face.
“Hmm…” Princess Cinnamon shrugged. She didn’t want to admit that actually she had thought the same.
The ocean is weird. Even if it was quiet, and the wave was calm, it was never actually silent. You can always hear the water splashing when it hit the side of the ship, and the seagulls shrieking something which sounds like an evil plan to their friends, the whales singing from afar, or the wind whispering something right in your ears it tickled sometimes. It’s as quiet as it could be. Even at night when the creatures were sleeping, and the nocturnes were not feeling chatty, they can hear the wood in the ship creaking as if it was snoring after a long day.
Sometimes the wind went a bit nasty, and the captain became a little bit angry, and everybody started to say something about panicking, and doing it really well. At those times, the life in the ocean is not so tranquil anymore. It was a full adrenaline rush from the first second the captain shouted some very obscene words about the incoming storm, to the less obscene ones when he mocked the mother nature for giving him a challenge that was too easy to complete.
But that day was not one of those day. The sun was shining, and the wind is blowing calm and happy, and somehow it was not as cold as few days ago. That day reminded Princess Cinnamon of one song Banjo often played in the marketplace, when she was so much younger. She counted the years, it must have been six or seven years ago, but she still remembered each words.
She was almost singing the song when the captain came with a smug in his face and asked both of them if they wanted to see what he saw in his station — saved Coco from an earache.
“You might like this one,” he said.
Princess Cinnamon and Coco had never visited the captain’s working room before. That was the small loft smells like burnt bladder, probably the mixture of the spilled cider and beer and the smell of smoke stuck in the air. However, both young women were too polite to stuck their fingers to their nose let alone say anything nasty about it. Captain Whale chuckled a little knowing that. The first time he brought his daughter up there, she nagged him for half an hour about hygiene and in the end told him how disgusting the smell was.
“Sorry, this room was never meant for young girls like you. However what I am going to show you can only be seen from here…” he pointed to one big window in front of the huge board with levers and colourful lamp.
It was the ocean, obviously, but this time instead of a vast amount of water, their eyes were locked to the huge island, which looked relatively small from afar. The sun was setting behind the island and created a beautiful silhouette in the orange screen, like a shadow game they used to play when they’re young. Princess Cinnamon had never seen such thing before, but she knew the only reason why the captain wanted to show her this.
“Is that…?” She could not even finish her question. There was fear that she didn’t not notice had been there all this time. The fear that it might not as beautiful as she always wished for, or the fear they would never get there. But she swallowed the fears and soon the excitement kicked in, again.
The captain nodded.
“The Land of Four Kingdom and Four Season,” Princess Cinnamon whispered as if the dark silhouette would disappear if she say its name out loud.
“When will we arrive there?” Coco couldn’t wait to get out from that small smelly room.
“I hope we would be there by tomorrow evening,” the Captain said.
The magic of the island has gone for both of them. They started to chat about the weather there, what clothes to prepare, where they would live for the first month, and so on. But not for the Princess.
The ship felt ten times slower now, and the sound of the water, the seagull, the creaking wood in the ship is no more than noises that makes her want to jump off the ship and run to the land of her dream. The smell of this room is no longer bothering her. Apparently when one of your senses is already fixed on to something, the other senses are just as useless as adding an extra pinch of salt in the sea.