Duncan held the long strand of silvery hair between his fingers, watching it reflect the gentle lamplight of the navigation room. For a long moment, he was utterly silent, his expression carefully neutral.
He slowly looked up from the hair to Alice, who stood before him with a proud, innocent smile that could only be described as earnest and completely oblivious.
"Let me just clarify," he began gently, setting the hair aside on a napkin with exaggerated calmness. "Did you just say your head fell into the soup?"
"Yes!" Alice nodded enthusiastically, as if this revelation were perfectly normal, even praiseworthy. "But don't worry, Captain—I pulled it out myself, without needing any help at all. You should have seen it! Quick reflexes, just a minor splash. A huge improvement from last time!"
Duncan's eyebrows raised slightly. He glanced aside at the wooden goat head resting on the navigation table, whose carved features were carefully and suspiciously expressionless.
"What… happened last time?" Duncan asked cautiously.
Alice suddenly became visibly awkward, her smile faltering as she glanced around, avoiding Duncan's questioning gaze. "Um, just a minor incident with the flour barrel. I thought making bread might be easy, but I didn't expect the dough to be so sticky. My head fell in, and then it was a little bit tricky to get it back out again…"
"You got stuck in a barrel of flour?" Duncan slowly asked, trying hard to picture that improbable scenario. "And you didn't think of calling me or someone else for help?"
"Oh, I couldn't do that! You've been so busy lately, Captain," Alice explained sincerely. "Besides, it wouldn't have been dignified at all. And really, it wasn't that bad. It only took about half an hour for me to get unstuck—mostly by myself!"
Duncan closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing this revelation. When he opened them again, he saw Alice smiling at him with genuine pride in her accomplishment.
He sighed, a helpless smile creeping onto his face. "Alice, next time—just call me."
"Yes, Captain!" Alice brightened considerably. "But you haven't even tasted the soup yet! Go ahead—it's very good! I followed Mr. Goathead's instructions exactly."
Duncan shot another suspicious glance at the goat head, whose wooden expression remained carefully neutral.
"What?" the goat head asked innocently. "I have a lot of knowledge about cooking! Perhaps not the experience of tasting it myself, but cooking is mostly theory anyway."
Duncan ignored that dubious statement and cautiously stirred the fish soup once more. Besides the incident with Alice's detachable head, it really did look and smell like perfectly ordinary soup. He took a deep breath, summoned his courage, and tasted it.
To his considerable surprise—it was delicious.
He stared at the soup bowl, momentarily dumbfounded. The broth was rich, flavorful, and surprisingly fresh, even subtly seasoned. It was actually quite good.
"You made this?" he asked, incredulous, looking up at Alice again. "Your first time cooking, and you somehow got it right?"
"Yes, Captain!" Alice replied proudly. "You see, I followed instructions exactly. Mr. Goathead explained that cooking is really just about following directions carefully, and my hands are quite steady! Well… except for that moment when my head fell in. But I didn't let that distract me!"
Duncan considered her words, silently conceding her point. As unsettling as the concept of Alice cooking might be, there was no denying the result: the fish soup was excellent.
"Very well," he finally admitted, nodding at Alice with genuine appreciation. "You've done an impressive job. Maybe cooking could indeed be your role aboard the Vanished—at least, until you're more accustomed to the ship and its… unique conditions."
Alice's smile widened in delight. "Thank you, Captain! I promise I'll improve quickly!"
Duncan chuckled softly, finding himself genuinely amused by this surreal scenario. The idea of a cursed doll cheerfully learning to cook on a ghost ship—with the help of a sentient goat-head carving—was utterly absurd, yet strangely comforting.
The Vanished had been silent and lonely for a long time. Alice, despite her occasional chaos, was bringing life and warmth back into the vessel in her own peculiar way.
"Just… be careful with your head in the future," Duncan added after a moment, trying to sound stern. "Not every situation might be as easy to handle as flour barrels and soup pots."
"I'll be very careful, Captain," Alice promised earnestly. "Maybe I could tie it down somehow when I cook? A ribbon, perhaps…"
"Whatever works," Duncan sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Just let me know if there are any problems next time."
Alice eagerly agreed, and after checking several times to ensure Duncan truly enjoyed his soup, she cheerfully exited the navigation room, humming softly to herself.
Only after she was gone did Duncan turn his attention to the goat head, which had remained suspiciously quiet throughout the exchange.
"You instructed her how to cook?" Duncan raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious now. "You know about cooking?"
"Of course, Captain!" The goat head sounded genuinely indignant. "I've had countless conversations with cooks, sailors, captains, and officers over the years. You wouldn't believe the things one overhears aboard a ship. Just because I'm carved out of wood doesn't mean I lack culinary insight!"
Duncan stared at the goat head, trying to process this bizarre revelation, before ultimately shaking his head in surrender. "Alright, fine. At least your advice actually worked."
"Captain, trust is vital aboard a ship," the goat head continued seriously. "If you cannot trust your first mate's cooking expertise, how will we ever sail safely into battle or storms?"
Duncan snorted softly, resisting the urge to laugh. "Fair point. But next time, warn her about the hazards of losing her head in the kitchen."
"Absolutely, Captain!" the goat head agreed cheerfully. "And may I suggest perhaps finding some hair ties or ribbons? I suspect it might greatly improve Miss Alice's cooking efficiency!"
Duncan couldn't hold back a soft chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, slowly sipping the delicious soup, reflecting on the surreal yet oddly comforting life he now led aboard the Vanished.
Despite the bizarre conversations and the frequent chaos Alice introduced, he realized he was truly beginning to enjoy this strange companionship.
He shook his head slowly, smiling to himself.
After all, life aboard a ghost ship was never meant to be normal.