Leaving my brother and friends to sleep sprawled on the couch in a haphazard pile, I turned the television off. When I made a quiet escape from Zachary’s quarters, one of Derek’s men was standing outside on guard. “Do you know which room is mine?” I asked wryly, making a sour expression. “And I don’t suppose you happen to have a key, do you?” A soft chuckle answered me, accompanied by a nod. “Follow me, sir.” It wasn’t far, and the guard opened the door to let me in. “Sleep well.” “Thanks,” I replied, pausing halfway into the room. “Could you call the staff and let them know that someone is going to have to peel Zachary, my brother, and a few others off the couch?” “I’ll take care of it.” With a nod, I slipped inside and shut the door, heaving a relieved sigh at successfully ensuring some privacy. I slipped the door’s chain into place. I flicked on the light. The stateroom proved to be one of the nicer ones on board, complete with a sitting area stolen directly from the Victorian era.
