“If it is alright with you, I prefer we have some discussion before heading to shore,” Ayla replied. Entering the cabin, she committed to the ruse of seeking reference materials and evaluating the current stock. She received the first book and began to leaf through the pages with an expression of thoughtful consideration. 

After a few more moments of pantomime, creating the illusion that she were intensely occupied with the thought of herbs, flora, and alchemy, Ayla raised her eyes to the captain and studied him for a moment. She told herself it was better to keep him informed directly, especially given the length of their voyage thus far. It was entirely possible, though not completely probable, that word may have reached the current outpost to be on the watch for one such as herself. 

As time had progressed, she began to suspect that the Quartermaster had not divulged her little secret to the captain. The fact that she had continued to be so unnoticed for this long had seemed a miracle. She pressed her palms together and spoke with gravity and a gaze that observed the floorboards in shame.

“I have been untruthful, sir, and I need to rectify my misleadings.” A faint tremble took her hands as she raised them from before her waist. She reached for her scarf and undid the knot as she continued, “I am deeply apologetic for the lies I have told you and your crew.”

She set the beige and shapeless scrap on the desk and returned her fingers to the back of her head, in search of the pin that secured her hair in its complex and messy updo. “I am not who I have claimed to be, in name,” she confessed as the tumbles of red fell into a mixture of half-done braids and tangles. 

Ayla pulled a deep breath between her teeth and moved to tuck one side of her free hair behind an ear, exposing her sharp shame for the first time since venturing off the land of her birth. 

“I have not lied of my intentions, my abilities, nor my motives,” she quickly amended. “I seek a better life, I am versed in healing arts, and I leave poor conditions behind.” Clarifying, she felt her eyes slip shut for an extended moment. Her voice dropped to a shame-filled whisper.

“I fear that there may be a search for me.” She did not feel that continuing an outpouring of apology would do any further good at this point. He would be furious or he would not. He would turn her over or he would preserve her secret. The fate of this part of her journey was out of her hands. She awaited judgement.