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Lucilla didn’t know how close she’d come. LUCILLA The next morning was the most awkward of my life. Yeah, I was drunk last night, but not nearly drunk enough to get away with that. It was just… Julia looked so pretty in the fire light. Her green eyes were twinkling, her apple cheeks blushed ruby against her pale complexion, her full, red lips matched the deep passion of her hair, and on top of it all, she was gently washing my breasts. Maybe it was because Sara gave me my first sapphic kiss, and it awoke a part of my sexuality I didn’t know existed. Maybe I wanted to share my lustful revelation with the person I cared most for in this world. Or maybe, I was just drunk and horny. Julia’s a fucking nun for Mother’s sake; what was I thinking?!As Julia and I silently ate breakfast, I realized this wasn’t just a one-off feeling for me. My eyes lingered on her; the subtle swell of her breasts beneath her habit, the way the cloth narrowed at her waist and then widened, showing the outline. It was settled. Constance moved her bag to the alcove with the cot. For the first time in her life, she was on a ship, out at sea, and wanted to stand at the rail and feel the Caribbean breeze lifting her hair. She wanted to see the clear blue-green waters and the lush profusion of islands other than the one on which she’d always lived. She wanted to watch the sailors at work on the sails and lines, and hear their sea-shanties. But once she’d enlisted the aid of Greta and Daisy, she knew that to be found out would be to get them in trouble as well. So she did as she was told and stayed closeted, feeling like a prisoner in the small, windowless alcove. She spied through cracks in the door and walls when she could. On deck, where she had the tiniest slices of views of the sailors and the sea. Into the dining room where Lord Cuthburt took his meals with the captain, the captain’s wife, and the ship’s officers. On her third night, she was wakened by a whisper. ‘Daisy … Daisy, love.’.
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