“Hello there. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a stowaway,” Madeline mused, as she lowered herself to the level of the far-too-well-dressed individual hiding on her ship. “You’re not the usual type I see,” she hummed, her eyes slowly studying their clothing. “Noble, are we?” Her gaze landed on a particular insignia.

Sh*t. A royal of Eldoira. Royals always meant trouble. Their lives were tangled in webs of politics, power, and decisions. But this one? She was thoroughly f*cked. This one was supposed to be married today.

“Now, why are you on my ship, Your Highness? Aren’t you supposed to be happily married?” she muttered sarcastically, brushing her hair back. Madeline watched as the royal’s eyes changed—genuine fear flickering in their gaze. Her heart clenched.

But her loyalty to her crew came first. She couldn’t afford to let her ship become entangled in the affairs of Eldoira or any number of its allies. If word got out that she had the soon-to-be spouse of the Emperor of Itharion, it would put everyone on her crew in danger. It wouldn’t matter if the royal was here as a stowaway or if she’d taken them herself. She had to be smart. She had to protect them.

So why was she hesitating? Maybe it was the way the runaway’s eyes held a glimmer of the same defiance she’d carried in her own when she first took control of her destiny. Or maybe it was just that old, familiar instinct—the one that told her to help those who had no one else. She sighed heavily, pushing her hat back on her head. “Why are you here? And don’t lie to me—I’ll know,” she said.