The clothe also has a crimson sash was knotted around her waist, and small gold hoops glinted in her ears. Her flaming red hair had been tied back loosely, with wisps framing her face, giving her the look of a tempest caught mid-swoon,wild and commanding, soft yet lethal. A silver chain wrapped once around her neck, a charm in the shape of a compass resting at her collarbone.
Alaric whistled, slowly circling her like a man admiring forbidden art.
"You’re going to get killed," he said with a slow grin. His tone was light, but his eyes devoured her.
"You like it?" she asked, lifting her brow coyly.
He stepped close, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I love you. But yes... this?" He smirked. "I like. This I’d follow into any storm."
She smiled, heart fluttering at how playful he was being,how warm. It was rare. And it was hers. She reached out and adjusted the collar of his dark tunic. "You look handso, Captain."
He grinned and leaned in, placing a lingering kiss on her cheek. "Careful, First Mate. I might get used to this."
They were touchy, yes,hands grazing as they adjusted each other’s belts, giggling like they hadn’t faced death only days before. Salviana noticed the way his eyes softened when they landed on her now. The guarded edge in him had eased, replaced with curiosity, with want. She’d been the one mourning the slowing intimacy, fearing the distance, but perhaps... they’d just needed the right wind to bring them back.
She wouldn’t rush him. Not anymore. This attention,this tenderness,was more valuable than gold. She’d take it, piece by piece, and build sothing eternal from it.
anwhile, Lucius and Jean had retreated into their own corner, adjusting cuffs and sharing whispered jokes. Jean wore her pirate coat off the shoulder, lazily confident, while Lucius had stolen a feathered hat and placed it on her head. She didn’t take it off. They were laughing over sothing that probably had to do with poison or poetry,Lucius’s specialties.
The group was almost unrecognizable,no longer royals or fugitives or hunted children of prophecy,but sothing else entirely.
They were pirates now.
And the sea was waiting.
And they agreed Jess would co along after she insisted she wanted the experience and her mother said it was fine since she had workers and it wasn’t as if Jess had always been here.
The door creaked open with a sense of quiet ceremony as the group stepped out of Jess’s modest ho, one by one—each of them transford, cloaked in pirate splendor and the kind of energy that only cos from knowing sothing great—or dangerous—is ahead.
Salviana’s boots hit the earth first, soft thuds echoing on the dirt path as the early morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows across her white blouse and bronze embroidery. Alaric walked just behind her, his hand brushing hers like a silent vow. Jean and Lucius trailed them, whispering, laughing low as Jean adjusted the feather on her borrowed pirate hat.
The horses nickered softly from the side yard, tied to a post and nibbling lazily at a trough. Jess’s mother stepped out after them, apron still dusted with flour, wiping her hands on a cloth.
"Keep them safe for us," Salviana said, reaching out to pat one of the steeds on the muzzle.
"With my life, your grace," Jess’s mother replied, puffing up with pride. "They’ll be fed, brushed, and spoiled until you return."
Jess gave her mother a quick hug before catching up with the rest of the group, who were already striding down the winding slope toward the harbor.
The path spilled into the seaside like a ribbon unraveling into sunlight. The salty breeze whipped at their coats and hair, and seagulls cried above like heralds. The docks were alive and pulsing with activity—vendors shouted over one another, hawking everything from roasted mussels on sticks to polished coral rings. The air was thick with the scent of ocean brine, hot oil, citrus, and sun-ward wood.
Children ran barefoot between crates of eels and baskets of shellfish. Sailors hauled ropes and barrels, calling out to each other in a rough but rhythmic lody that only made the world feel more alive.
They passed a stand where a woman was selling trinkets made of bone and sea glass. Another had jars filled with colored salts said to protect against storms.
But Salviana’s eyes were on the water.
A small boat bobbed gently at the dock’s edge, modest and worn but sturdy. Painted in faded blue and patched with love, it had enough space for the four of them and the girl who had beco an unexpected guide.
"This one will do," Lucius said, nodding to the old man who owned it.
"Where you headed?" the old sailor rasped, squinting up at them with a hand shading his eyes.
"To the sea," Alaric answered simply. "We’ll pay double for silence."
The man grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. "Aye, silence it is."
Coins exchanged hands, and they boarded the boat.
Jess untied the ropes with surprising ease, hopping on last. The wind tugged at her braid, and her eyes sparkled.
"They were just here two days ago," she reminded them. "If the wind’s on our side, we’ll catch the ship by nightfall."
Salviana sat near the bow, her eyes scanning the endless stretch of ocean ahead. Alaric took the tiller while Lucius and Jean kept watch on the shore, the small town of Wyfhaven shrinking behind them.
The boat pulled away from the dock, slicing through the gentle waves like a secret slipping into motion. Behind them, the bells of morning trade continued to ring, a distant harmony to their quiet escape.
They didn’t look back.
The sea was waiting.
And this ti, they were dressed for war—or diplomacy.
Either way, the pirates wouldn’t know what hit them.
Let the adventure begin.
Before they got any further Jean bent and threw up into the water.
"Great," Alaric muttered under his breath.
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