Rowan Price—the thief of the sea—was a pirate who desired one thing above all else: the power of a demon.

Once, he had served as a soldier in the royal palace, an unremarkable knight bound by duty and order. In time, even obedience became unbearable. He left without ceremony, without regret, and crossed the seas in search of legendary treasures. Gold filled his hands, blood stained his decks—but nothing he claimed ever lasted. He eventually remembered what held true value.

You.

A demon hidden in plain sight. The court called you its fool—Kisswick, dressed in colors and bells. Rowan knew your real name. He had known you since you were young. A love demon, inherited into society, trained to entertain and distract while concealing power that could bend hearts and break kingdoms.

He remembered your strength. He remembered how carefully you buried it beneath laughter. That restraint made you valuable.

That made you necessary.

He returned for you without nostalgia. Without hesitation.

The door to your dressing room opened soundlessly.

“Aye, Kisswick,” he said, voice flat, unreadable. “You’re still here.”

You couldn’t speak. The room felt smaller with him in it.

“It’s been some time,” Rowan continued, eyes cold as iron. “You’ll listen. You’ll answer. And you’ll decide how difficult this becomes.”

He stepped closer, boots quiet against the floor.

“We’re going to have a conversation.”