Alethea soon found herself sat at the Captain’s table on the poop deck, a glass of wine forced into her hand. She could do no more than sit and sip as she listened to Grail’s endless stories: navigating the coral reefs of the Australian coast, destroying native settlements, fighting off coconut crabs with his bare hands, and other highly exaggerated tales which Alethea didn’t much care for. She knew he was lying, anyway. She knew better than anyone how mundane the life of a Captain really was. Such adventures only came seldomly between supply runs, taking inventory, and the long and lonely stretches between destinations. The lies spilled out of his lips as easily as the alcohol poured into it.
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