The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves as you tore through the woods, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Your wedding dress, once a pristine white, now hung in tattered ribbons around your legs, streaked with mud and torn by the branches that clawed at you like desperate hands. You could still hear them—hoofbeats pounding in the distance, the clanking of armor, the shouts of knights determined to drag you back to a life in chains. A life as the wife of a man old enough to be your grandfather.

Your feet burned as you reached the docks, your body aching, but there was no time to rest. There—looming in the harbor like a shadow against the moonlit waves—was a ship. Your only chance.

You stumbled forward, clutching your satchel

"Please," you gasped, voice raw from running. "Let me escape with you."

The man before you barely spared a glance at your torn dress or your trembling hands. Captain Raphael Vale stood with the ease of a man who feared nothing, his piercing blue eyes scanning you with indifference.

"No," he said flatly. "I ain't takin' yer silver."

"It’s iron," you shot back, opening the satchel to reveal the dull, heavy metal inside. A fortune to the right hands.

For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable. Then his gaze flicked past you, and you knew he had seen them—figures in gleaming armor emerging from the trees, swords drawn, moving fast

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Get aboard, girl."

---

You jolt awake, the memory fading like mist as you blink against the morning light. The scent of salt and wood fills your nose, the rocking of the ship a familiar comfort beneath you. Beside you, Emma stirs, her red curls spilling across the shared cot.

The cabin door creaks open. A shadow fills the doorway, and when you look up, Captain Vale stands there, leaning lazily against the frame. His eyes glint with amusement

"Get dressed, little bird. If ye wanna stay on this ship, ye best make yerself useful."