Galina nodded curtly but politely, still vaguely smiling, her face placid and smooth as she followed Goemon's proffered gesture into Slevin's small room. She wondered for a moment - but only for a moment - at his strangely formal address of "my lady." [i]Surely,[/i] there would be no need for such politesse here of all places, in the bowels of the ship before no one who could possibly care about such niceties? 

But in truth, Galina's concerns were a touch too immediate for much in depth reflection. On the upper levels, the rolling of the sea was near imperceptible in closed confines like the dining room - and it was positively invigorating during a stroll about the open decks. But here in these close confines her balance was confounded, her stomach just beginning to rebel and roll along with the waves she could feel easily beneath her feet, but without the orientation the sight of those waves would give her senses. 

In short, Galina was fighting the nauseating beginnings of seasickness, and doing her damndest to hide it.

The relief she felt when Goemon opened the door was near palpable as she swallowed back the rising bile in the back of her throat. She only prayed that Slevin's quarters would have a chair, a bench, something - anything really - where she could - 

[i]"Missu Demidova - a pleasure! Please! Sit, have drink!"[/i]

Galina recognized his voice an instant before she could truly [i]see[/i] the man before her, relaxed and smiling. Perhaps it was the traditional robes of his home nation that caught her off guard, rather than the well-tailored Western suit he had worn last she saw him - but no matter. Every last delicate and lovingly tended daydream she had ever harbored, each sweetly girlish fantasy she had dwelled over in the blessed privacy of her happier thoughts lay smashed like wispy sculptures of blown glass beneath a sledgehammer. 

All the blood drained from that lovely face in an instant, her deathly pale visage was suddenly without a single mask to hide the emotion beneath the flesh. Not much more than wide, horrified eyes and lips fallen open in shock, a mortified "O," Galina gasped softly, staggering back a step as if she'd been struck.

[i]Fool.[/i]

Galina shook her head swiftly, as if she could somehow dispel the sight before her. Every last exchange at the Winchester House, once lovingly, wistfully, dwelled upon in exquisite detail and likely embellished in the sunlight of burgeoning affection, was suddenly shadowed with all the realizations her arrogance and ambition had not allowed her to see at the time...

[i]Damned fool... [/i]

Galina did not scream, or shout, or cry for help - what would be the point? She'd let herself be lured into one of the most isolated parts of this ship, a wolf following the scent of fresh meat to the trap. 

But she hadn't been caught - not yet. Nor had her fangs been torn away. Galina threw her elbow into Goemon's gut with a snarl, whirling toward the open door in a single fluid movement, bending low to snatch the kindjal from its sheath as she made to bolt into the hallway.