Not observing an abundance of attention in her direction, Ayla began to suspect that the Quartermaster had not spoken freely of her to the Captain yet. Relief caressed her shoulders out of tension and she took to her meal heartily. There was peace in a fulfilling platter beneath the watercolor sky, an escape from life that Ayla had never been privy to. She basked in the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the air, rocking with the waves as if floating on a dream. 

She noticed the Quartermaster glance in her direction. She felt conspiratorial yet knew she had been as honest as she could. She raised her glass in reply to him, bowing her head in a reverential tilt to his station. As if repeating the refrain from their discussion earlier in the day, she sent a silent [i]“Thank you”[/i] in his direction. 

As the meal came to a close, Ayla quickly made herself useful. She collected platters left behind by indifferent passengers and brought them in bundle back to the galley. She presumed there would be a basin and sought out the cook, Sabrina. Eager to make as many good impressions as she could, Ayla inquired as to how she may lighten the load of the chef’s burden.

“A most warming bowl this evening,” she complimented. “May I aid you in putting your workspace back in order?”Rolling up her sleeves to the elbows, Ayla awaited permission before reaching out to muss with any of the items in the space.