Preparing to Cast Off

Dawn had not yet broken, but the port was already stirring with the kind of nervous energy that always came when my ship prepared to leave a place behind. Some ports felt relief to see us go. Others felt dread at our arrival. This one felt like it was holding its breath. I could sense it in the way the innkeeper avoided my eyes. In the way the workers paused whenever my boots struck the wooden planks of the pier. In the way the fishermen hauled in their morning nets without speaking a word.

Fear had a scent. I had long ago learned to recognize it. The Black Serpent waited for me across the dock, her silhouette sharp against the paling sky. Even in her half-restored state, she was magnificent. The hull had been scrubbed clean of the feminine nonsense Mauve had plastered over her, the ribbons, the painted charms, the delicate carvings. The crew I hired had done well. Soon she would look exactly as she once had: a predator on the water, sleek and ruthless. She would be mine again in every way.

I moved with purpose, my coat brushing against my boots as I stalked down the dock. The men followed behind me in a loose trail, still shaking off sleep and the remnants of their drunken revelry from the night before. They snapped to attention whenever my eyes struck theirs. Good. I needed discipline now. Fear sharpened obedience, but my men also needed to remember what it meant to sail under my command. Under my rules. Not under Mauve’s misguided softness. Not under James’s pitiful dream of peace. The Black Serpent would not carry dreams. Only purpose. Only vengeance. Mauve herself was waiting at the gangplank, the child in her arms. Isabella’s daughter. She clutched the girl awkwardly, like she was afraid the tiny creature might burst into flames.

“Captain,” Mauve greeted with a curt nod, her eyes pointedly darting away from mine. “Ship’s nearly ready. Supplies are aboard. Crew’s accounted for.”
“And the girl?” I asked.

She swallowed hard.

“Quiet. For now.”

I stepped closer, close enough that Mauve stiffened, close enough that I could hear the girl breathing. It was strange, how small she was. How light. How little she understood of the chaos surrounding her. She blinked at me with big, dark eyes, Isabella’s eyes, and I felt something twist in my gut before I stomped it down. I did not need softness. I did not need blood that tied me to anything. The child meant only one thing: leverage.

“Good,” I said. “Keep her that way.”

Mauve hesitated.

“Captain, we’ve taken on attention here. The townsfolk they know something’s off. The innkeeper saw the blood on your sleeve last night. Others heard Isabella screaming. If someone alerts the local watch,”

I cut her off with a stare so cold it could have cracked stone.

“If someone alerts the local watch,” I said slowly, “I will handle it.”

Mauve nodded quickly.

“Aye, Captain.”

I brushed past her and stepped onto the gangplank. The crew stiffened as soon as my boots hit the deck. A few of them exchanged uneasy glances. I remembered them, men who once trembled when I raised my voice, men who once lived and breathed by my commands. I had died once, as far as they knew. They had learned to live without me. The moment they set eyes on me again, I saw everything fall back into place. Some kings ruled with gold. Others with glory. I ruled with fear. They still remembered. I strode across the deck, inspecting the repairs.

“You repainted the bow too lightly,” I growled at the man near the prow. He froze mid-brush stroke. “I want the black darker. I want it to swallow the sun.”
“A-aye, Captain.”
“Fix it before we sail.”
“Aye, sir.”

I moved on. The smell of salt and tar filled my lungs, familiar, grounding. This was where I belonged. Not on land. Not in a kingdom filled with weak rulers and sentimental fools. Not in a marriage built to fail. The sea was the only place that ever bowed for me. Mauve finally climbed aboard behind me, still clutching the child.

“Where do you want her, Captain?”
“For now,” I said, “below deck. Away from Isabella. Close enough that I can fetch her when I need her.”
“Isabella?”

I smirked.

“She stays in chains by my side.”

Even saying it filled me with a dark satisfaction. I knew she was awake. I knew she was listening. I could practically feel her anger radiating from the inn across the pier. After last night, she would hate me more than she ever had. Good. Hatred was cleaner than heartbreak. Easier to predict. Easier to mold. She was not my love. She was my possession. My investment. A contract sealed long before James ever laid eyes on her. I intended to reclaim her in full. I turned to face Mauve again.

“Bring the girl up only when I say. No more slipping her off to soothe her in secret. I want to hear her when she cries.”

Mauve looked unsettled.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Send two men to retrieve Isabella. I want her aboard before we cast off.”

The words left my mouth cold and sharp. There would be no hesitation. No softness. No room for bargaining or tears. Mauve nodded and hurried off. I leaned against the railing, watching the horizon lighten by the minute. The sea was nearly silver now, gleaming under the waking sky. A new day. A new chapter. Everything in it, everything on that ship, would bend to my will, or it would break beneath it. Moments later, I heard footsteps behind me. Heavy ones. The two crewmen. Softer ones, unsteady, unwilling. Isabella’s.

I didn’t turn right away. I wanted her to feel the dread of approaching me, the weight of returning to the life she had once escaped. I wanted her to remember exactly who she belonged to. When I finally faced her, she looked pale, exhausted, her hair tangled and eyes swollen from tears she tried to hide. She held herself like she wanted to shrink away from the world and throw herself into the sea at the same time. Pathetic. Predictable. Yet her defiance simmered beneath the surface. It always had.

“You took your time,” I said.

She glared at me.

“You had no right to...”

I stepped forward, cutting her off with the weight of my presence alone.

“I have every right.”

She flinched, but didn’t look away. Good. I preferred her with fire. Breaking her was always more satisfying when she fought. The crew watched us with unease, none daring to speak.

“Put her in my quarters,” I ordered. “We set sail within the hour.”

The men grabbed her by the arms. She jerked against their hold but made no sound; she wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of hearing her beg. Her eyes flicked once, briefly, desperately, toward where Mauve carried the child below deck. I saw the fear there. The pleading. I ignored it. I turned back toward the horizon, inhaling the salt-heavy wind. The Black Serpent was awake again. The sea was calling me home. Isabella, along with the child she clung to so desperately, was where she should have been from the start. Under my command. This time, not even fate would take my ship, or my property, from me.