Several days had passed since the time Berengar informed Honoria about his origins. After such a shocking revelation, she had needed some space to process the information and had spent the last few days within isolation on her ship. She had deliberately asked Berengar to stay onboard another vessel while she worked through her thoughts.

Thus, at the moment Honoria had a bottle of rum in her hands as she lied back on her mattress. She had a downcast expression as she combed the vacant spot next to her. Normally, Berengar would be lying next to her, playing with her hair and whispering sweet nothings to her. However, such a thing was not the case, and she realized that she only had herself to blame.

The Byzantine Princess was certain that she had messed up by asking her husband about the origin of his boundless knowledge, and all his honesty had done was complicate things between them. However, as time flew by, and the alcohol affected her mind, she realized she was over-reacting. Fundamentally, Berengar was correct when he had said that he was the same man she had always known and loved.

It was with this in mind that she dragged her intoxicated ass off her bed and wobbled to her door, ready to publically proclaim her apology over the telegram. Such a thing would not only be a breach of protocol, but was just a bad idea in general.

However, she was determined to make amends, and thus she grabbed hold of the doorknob and twisted it open. The first thing that Honoria witnessed was the shocked appearance of her first mate. Malissa gazed upon her intoxicated captain with a disproving expression.

"Honoria, with all due respect, you look terrible. I would ask you what's wrong, but we have greater matters to worry about. Why don't you get some rest, and I will take charge for now?"

This notion confused Honoria, and she immediately tried to ask about what was transpiring.

"What.... what is... what's wrong?"

...