"..."
Christian noticed that the queen's hand had unconsciously tightened around the hilt at her waist. The veins on the back of her hand bulged slightly from the force of her grip. He could not tell whether she was nervous about setting sail or troubled by some other worry.
"Whatever the case!"
"A voyage at sea is always a brush with death."
After a long while, Catherine spoke, seemingly to herself, yet also as though confiding in Christian.
"Storms, monsters, hidden currents... and those dreadful whirlpools. Who can guarantee absolute safety?"
She paused, then continued:
"I've seen countless pieces of wreckage circling the whirlpools out at sea, round and round, without ever stopping."
"The flags on their masts hadn't completely rotted away, and the planks still bore fresh splinters. But the ships were gone, and so were their people. Only those fragments remained, spinning on the surface, waiting for the seawater and barnacles to swallow them completely after countless years."
"Just like my father..."
"He was perfectly fine, and then he was simply gone."
Catherine withdrew her gaze from the horizon and looked down at the glittering water beside the pier.
"..."
Behind her, Christian remained silent.
He knew, of course, that many ships disappeared every year in the waters between Erathia and Enroth, and that sailors met their deaths there each year. He had experienced it himself once, and that was when he had lost everything: his ship, his cargo, his years of savings, and more.
Only his life remained. He had survived by sheer luck until Queen Catherine's ship found and rescued him, snatching him back from death.
"If I could..."
Suddenly, Catherine turned with a soft laugh, her beautiful green eyes meeting Christian's openly.
"I really wouldn't want to entrust my life to these fragile sailing ships.