"Frustrated, in truth," she admitted. There were very few people around whom she'd let her guard down enough to admit how she genuinely felt about something, and Connor was rapidly becoming one of them. She hated being this weak in front of him, but she also knew he could be trusted to keep it to himself. She just wished the whole crew hadn't witnessed her graceless loss of lunch over the side of the ship, at least twice in those first couple of days.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, I've never been this bad on a ship before, and it's hardly a turbulent journey... I may have taken ill with something..." it seems a far more likely explanation than sea sickness, given the circumstances.

She reaches for the mug of peppermint tea, bringing it to her face to inhale the soothing vapours,only to find they're not so soothing after all. She pulls a face, pushing the mug away.

"I'm so sorry, that smells awful..." and she normally liked peppermint tea...