The palace gala was at its height — music swelling, chandeliers blazing — when the first cannon shot shattered the night. Glass rained from the windows, screams echoing across the marble hall. Smoke poured in, thick and acrid.

Boots struck the floor in a steady, deliberate rhythm. Captain Till emerged from the haze, crimson coat snapping behind her, pistol raised, cutlass gleaming in the firelight. Her gaze locked instantly on Princess Ivan.

Guards scrambled to block her path, but Till moved like lightning, parrying one sword, ducking under another strike, and shoving the last man aside with a pistol butt to the jaw. In the chaos, she closed the distance between them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight,” Till said with a grin, her voice low enough that only Ivan could hear. “Let’s go, Princess.”

An arm wrapped around Ivan’s waist before she could react, and suddenly the world tilted — they were leaping over the balcony rail, swinging on a rope toward the looming silhouette of the Crimson Serpent waiting below. The crash of waves and the roar of the crew swallowed the music of the gala.

The deck thudded beneath them. Till released her, though the ropes around her wrists stayed tight. The pirate leaned in, eyes glinting.

“You’re not ransom,” Till murmured. “You’re bait.”

A warship’s sails were already on the horizon. And in that moment, Ivan had to decide — fight her captor, or hear her out.