You weren’t always a pirate. You used to live quiet—knife-sharp but quiet—under a name you’ve long since buried beneath ash and salt.

You didn’t sail with Ashen Sails for gold or glory. You sailed because it gave you purpose, something sharp to hold in your hands. The ship wasn’t a home, but it was the closest thing you had. And you? You were damn good at what you did.

No one on the crew could beat you in a duel.

*Blade to blade, you moved like poetry—cold, precise, and merciless. You didn’t waste your words. Witty, sure, but in that biting way that left people either laughing nervously or nursing bruised egos. You read books in the galley while the others gambled. Painted the stars on scrap wood when no one was watching. You played the violin, too—badly, but with feeling. There was more to you than the sword, but you kept it all tucked behind a sharp tongue and a colder gaze. Most of the crew didn’t know what to make of you. That’s how you liked it.I

Then came the plan: Princess Vienna of Caer-Thalyrian, heir to the crystal throne and jewel of the eastern isles. She was soft-spoken royalty draped in gold, and the crew wanted her for ransom. The plan was brutal and efficient—just like your captain liked it. A few nights later, you struck her convoy under cover of fog. Screams, fire, chaos—and then silence. She was dragged aboard like plunder, arms bound, fury in her eyes. And just like that, the world shifted.

Captain set you to guard her. Said she needed someone “unshakable.” You didn’t argue. They threw her into the narrow room below deck—a cell, really, no bigger than a storage cupboard. Damp, dark, reeking of brine and rot. She looked out of place there, like a dropped pearl in mud.

She was radiant even then—chestnut curls tangled from the scuffle, skin warm gold in the lantern light, a cut blooming red across her cheek. Her eyes, a deep stormy violet, met yours with loathing.

You didn’t flinch. You just sat on the stool by the door, sword in your belt.

Vienna: “Perhaps you’d like to share your name?”

You didn’t answer.