Their evening gatherings were no less rowdy than any other time of day on the ship. The crew collected themselves in the galley, crowding around a table, which had been set with platters of food cooked by the expert hands of clowns and acrobats. Tonight were fat rolls with thick pats of butter, served alongside breaded chicken, and rice mixed with egg and cheese. Their culinary ventures were always spiced by seasonings collected from across the globe. Something new purchased from every city.
Even with the sound of laughter and the smiles passing around like helpings of cake, it was impossible to notice the large presence missing like a gaping tear in the wall.
A frown graced Maria's lips, coming to the realization that Tybalt would not be attending dinner with them that evening. A sigh escaped her, if he thought work was an excuse to skip a meal, Maria was going to make him think again. She lifted the plate that was set in his place; at the head of the table, where the patriarch of a family would sit, and piled it high with food. "Que dois-je faire de cet homme?" Maria murmured, wondering what she was ever going to do. Her heart often longed for the things her head dared not ask.
Cautiously Maria approached his door on the upper level, knocking gently with her elbow, since her hands were occupied. "Monsieur?" Maria asked, hoping he had not fallen asleep. "Do you intend to spend all day and all night holed up in this room like a stranger?"
In truth, Tybalt had collapsed upon his desk, slumped forward in his chair with his head sunken over upon a stack of parchment. He awoke with a start, rubbing at his eyes. ”Quoi?” he murmured, slowly stirring from his slumber. Etoile had curled up in her usual position at the end of his bed, but Tybalt was deep into paperwork: formal petitioning of the courts, appeals, documentation, and request forms. These tasks were meant for lawyers, but operating internationally brought with it a number of headaches that necessitated Tybalt’s direct attention. Needless to say, it had taken its toll. ”My apologies, I...what time is it?” he asked upon noticing his golden-haired daughter curled up happily at the foot of his empty bed.
Maria nudged the door open to look inside. Her lips pursed into a thin line when she spotted him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a mountain of papers that were strewn across his desk. Maria picked her way across the room carefully, setting one of the plates down where it could not get anything dirty. "Déjà la nuit," she replied, gesturing to the window, where night had fallen. "Worrying in healthy amounts is fine, Tybalt, but this much will only make your heart fill with unease, which is not good for your sleep." She licked her thumb, using it to wipe off a smudge of ink from his forehead.
"I brought you something to fill your stomach. If you are going to work late into the night, you should at least have a clear head and a full belly."
He spun in his chair to face her, stretching out his leg to hook a chair with his foot. He pulled it closer, giving her a place to sit. ”Ma cherie, I think there is no malady which can not be made lighter by your care,” he remarked with a weary smile. ”I am in your debt. Thank you.”
Tybalt crossed a leg over his knee to form a makeshift table, nestling a plate in the space and picking up a roll which he began to munch on. ”Sit, please—I have missed your company. Etoile regales me of her extraordinary flips which I’ve yet the privilege of seeing.”
Maria hid her blush cleverly by looking down, acting as though she was adjusting her dress before seating herself on the chair had pulled out for her. This close, she could feel the warmth that rolled off of him like waves lapping gently against the sand. "If you so insist, then I will stay a bit longer. We have all missed your company, the room is not as bright when you are not around."
I have missed your company, Maria thought, but did not dare speak the words her tongue longed for.
She smiled again instead, glancing at the sleeping figure at the edge of the bed, curled up like a cat. "Yes, she is getting very good at those. Alistair has made it a game to see if she can flip faster than he can grab her." Maria laughed. Her smile faded a bit, "Alix came to me while we were cleaning. The poor child does not know her own heart."
As Tybalt mixed up his eggs and rice, his ears perked at the mention of Alix. Naturally, he was worried about Etoile’s new roommate and how they were getting along, but he did not expect her to begin reaching out so soon. Something must have happened.
”What do you mean?” he asked.
"She came to me to fix the pain she felt after she fought with Etoile. Alix did not realize that what she felt was not physical pain, but emotional." Maria's smile had become somewhat sad. "I do not know what sort of life Alix lived before coming here, but it must have been a very lonely one." Alix was only a child and it hurt Maria to see her neglected.
Tybalt sighed. He recalled, long ago, a certain teary-eyed waif, whose tears inspired his own, who struggled even to understand the notion of sympathy. ”I know not what to do with that one. I know nothing about her, and I suspect she prefers it that way.” He began eating, scooping the mixture of egg and rice up to his mouth and eating with her.
Maria scooped up a bit of rice, always having been a neat and careful eater. "She will open up when her heart is ready, but not a moment sooner." There was something else about Alix that weighed on her mind. "When I checked on her this morning, she was also in a lot of pain. I do not know why, she is a child who only says things when necessary and nothing of frivolity."
Tybalt frowned, his beard twitching ever so subtly as he thought. It was something people rarely noticed—but for Etoile and Maria, who had memorized his various eccentricities. ”Do you know what is causing her pain? Perhaps it is why she...evidently snapped at Etoile.“
Maria shook her head. She would recognize the tell-tale twitch anywhere, "I suspect it may be something with her stomach," Maria recalled the pain Alix had been in the day prior when trying to eat a bowl of soup.
"The girls did make up," Maria smiled at the memory of Etoile hiding behind Alix from Rien. "I think they will become fast friends." Maria looked at the sleeping Etoile again, her gaze full of fondness. It would not be incorrect to say that Maria felt something akin to the love a mother would have for her child towards Etoile.
She could not impose, however. Etoile had a real Mother, somewhere. It was not her place to try and be a substitute, as much as she wished for it.
Tybalt's worries subsided, his frown gave way to a warm smile. "I hope that proves true—for both of their sakes."
He bit into a chicken leg; it was amusing to watch him gnaw on it like a caveman. Little hints told Maria he did not have the most refined past, but Tybalt had gone to great lengths to become the gentleman he wished others to see. Not that it mattered to Maria, who had seen him this way from day one.
With a few moments longer, he had nearly finished his meal. Perhaps she might have feared he would dismiss her; perhaps that is why she had loaded it up with so much food, that he would be made to converse longer.
But even with the food gone, he did not want her to leave.
Wiping his mouth with a serviette, he said, "So selfless in your concern for those around you, Maria. Is there ought I may do for you?"
Maria ate slowly, wishing to savor this peace. It reminded her of their humble beginnings, staying at boarding houses or small inns. On occasion, Tybalt would disappear with Etoile for a half an hour or so and come back with a key to some of the nicest accommodations the city had to offer.
In the silence, Maria's head managed to drift. Her cheeks were quick to turn pink again, which she cleverly hid behind her napkin, feigning a swipe at her dainty lips.
"Non Tybalt." She leaned forward with her napkin, wiping a smear from his cheek that he had missed. Maria had seen this side of Tybalt dozens of times, the fretting man he often tried to hide behind grandeur and smiles.
But it was not a side of him that Maria minded either.
"Does one always need something to visit?" She asked softly, then; "Is this all for Karolin? You are worried about her. Oui?"
Tybalt brought his hand up to rub at his head, trying to restore some semblance of order to his hair and ease his growing headache. "Oui," he replied. "The authorities insist she is held until they can bring in a Russian-speaking officer to interrogate her. I am petitioning to have her released until such time as they procure one, but to no avail. It does not sit well with me to have a member of this family rotting away in a cell, regardless of how recently she has joined it. No, it is ever more the shame that I allowed this to happen under my supervision to a member so novel and innocent."
He gestured to the stack of parchment on his desk and rambled on for a while. As the Ringmaster, his words were of such import that he could rarely afford to waste them lest they be misinterpreted. As Tybalt, he could speak freely, safe in the knowledge that Maria could sort out what was simple venting and what needed to be acted immediately upon.
"And so I am bestowed a mountain of paperwork, the aim of which is to confound me, all that they might hold her for so long as they see fit. It will not do - it will not do - for someone in our care to be subjected to injustice without rectification, and it is my belief that the Detective in charge of her custody is simply stalling for time. They have nothing, and they know it." He leant back in his chair and sighed. "But if I can do something to ease her suffering and I do not, then am I not a party to it? Thus I carve at the mountain one pen-scratch at a time at the expense of...well, I did not intend to miss dinner, that is certain. Nor Etoile's rehearsal..."
Maria listened, leaning forward slightly. She could tell that Tybalt was worried, Maria could see that he was in pain. Maria always had been sensitive to the pain that others felt. Tybalt trusted her a great deal to lay his heart bare and leave it in her care. Even if she could not hold onto it forever, she would cradle it carefully in the moment.
"You are in a lot of pain," the Healer frowned, itching to relieve it in the only way she knew how. She wished to take his hand, to pour her warmth into his palm. "We all care a great deal for Karolin. You know how le police, are. They have stuck you with all of this to waste time." It would not be their first run-in with the law.
"I would not fear so much for Karolin, she is very sturdy. It would not do to work yourself sick. You cannot help anyone if you are ailing." Maria's smile was gentle, "Rehearsals can be made up, dinner can be eaten another night, but your sanity and rest cannot be recovered if you drive yourself up a wall inside of this room." Maria rose, offering her hand without realizing. "Voulez-vous me rejoindre monsieur?" She asked, feeling brave. "The stars are especially beautiful from this high up."
Tybalt took her hand in one, then clasped another over the top of it, enveloping hers with the warmth of his rough palms. "Malheureusement, la belle Étoile de ma chambre devra suffire pour ce soir," he answered, gazing tiredly into her eyes. "Another night, certainly, but...this eve my head and pillow long to reacquaint themselves."
Her heart quickened when he took her hand in his own. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach; Maria falsely believed that the chance to tell him had come at last.
But the next words that came from his lip made the butterflies disperse as quickly as they had come. "I understand," it was easy to disguise the disappointment with another smile. "Then please, indulge me for another moment." Maria applied her ability and poured warmth into her hand, hoping to ease his headache; if only to help him rest better.
Maria saw his eyes shut in relief when she took his pain away. His head sunk over once more, and a smile crept onto his face. Now it was his turn to be bold. He straightened up, shifted his chair closer, and gently pecked her forehead with his lips. It was not the first time he had done so - it was common enough for a Frenchman to kiss a woman in friendship - but it always raised the question in their hearts.
"Thank you for coming, Maria. I could not do this without you."
This time, Maria could do nothing to disguise the blush in her cheeks, the furious burn making her face warm. "I should be the one thanking you, Tybalt. You took an ordinary world and turned it into something magique."
Tybalt beamed widely, a smile that had been missing from him the past few days. Her effect on him was clear, and likewise he could see her reaction to his gratitude...and yet, it was not proof enough for either to take the leap.
"May your rest be sweet," he wished her, firmly gripping her hand to bring her up from her seat before releasing it. "I will see you tomorrow."