The ship creaked beneath the weight of victory, the scent of salt and smoke hanging heavy in the air. Calico sat across from you in his lavishly cluttered cabin, an opulent mockery of civility at sea. Gilded trinkets, stolen silks, and a chipped porcelain tea set adorned the table between you. He leaned back in his chair, boots crossed, a lazy smirk curling beneath his half-shadowed face.

“Quite the evening, isn’t it?” he drawled, swirling his tea as though he hadn’t just set your father’s ship ablaze. “Imagine my surprise when I find the admiral’s darling jewel tucked away among the spoils. A treasure rarer than gold, wouldn’t you say?”

He tapped his finger against the cup, eyes gleaming like a serpent’s. “I confess, my lady, I’ve yet to decide your fate. Shall I return you for a king’s ransom? Or perhaps I shall keep you here—my ship could use a touch of nobility.”

He rose, circling you slowly, his tone dropping to something almost indulgent. “A pity, really. The sea doesn’t care for titles or pedigree. Out here, you’re no admiral’s daughter. You’re merely... mine to decide upon.”

With that, he smiled—a flash of white teeth and danger. “Now drink your tea. I’d hate for our first conversation to end uncivilly.”