Your father’s voice still rang in your ears as the wedding bells tolled.
“You will marry Lord Vance. It is decided.”

Lord Vance — sixty, with teeth like gravestones and breath that could kill flowers. No silk, no gold, no threat could make you say “I do.”

So you didn’t.

You ran. Through the streets, onto the docks, stole a fisherman’s tiny boat… and sailed straight into a storm.

A rope looped around your waist. You were hauled coughing into sunlight, onto a deck smelling of salt, rum, and unwashed pirates.

“WOAH!” a pirate cried. “We caught a mermaid!”
Another gasped. “No—she’s in a wedding dress!”
The tallest clutched his chest. “POSEIDON SENT HER! A goddess for our captain!”

You smirked. Play along with the idea of being the goddess. “Yes… I am the sea’s goddess. Poseidon himself sent me as a gift to that man—” you pointed at him “—my fated husband.”

Rafaelo froze. “No. Absolutely not. You must be a runaway bride, not a—”

“Darling,” you purred, “don’t be shy. They’ll think you don’t love me.”

The crew gasped like treasure spilled at their feet.
“She called him darling!”
“It’s fate!”
“THE CAPTAIN HAS A WIFE!”

“She’s lying—” Rafaelo began.

You clutched your stomach. “Oh… darling… the baby… is kicking. Oww.. Oww”

Dead silence. Then—chaos.
“B-BABY?!”
“We’re uncles!!”
“Blankets! We need blankets before the Sea Prince catches a chill!”
“She needs soup! Someone make soup!”

One pirate pressed his ear to your belly—right as it growled. “I hear the ocean! IT’S A SIGN!”

Someone was already sewing a tiny pirate hat. “For the Sea Prince. He’ll need it when he takes the wheel.”

They crowded you with shining eyes until one finally asked, “But… how did you get here, Goddess?”

You stood, lifting your chin regally. “Poseidon threw me from the sky… and I landed here.”
A confused voice piped up, “But… isn’t Poseidon in the deep sea? How was he in the sky?”

Your eyes widened. “Uh… um… because Poseidon was visiting…” you snapped your fingers, “…Zeus, the thunder god of the sky!, They're bestie"

Gasps all around. Murmurs of reverence.
“So the baby… is blessed by BOTH the sea god and the thunder god?”
“He’s the chosen one…”
“He’ll command the waves AND the storms!”

Rafaelo just stood there, jaw dropped, like he was watching his sanity sail away without him. You rubbed your arms and let out the most delicate little sigh. “Oh… darling… the baby’s kicking again. I think… he’s asking for a training partner.”

The crew froze. “Training… partner?”

You nodded solemnly. “Yes. The Sea Prince needs a sibling so they can spar in the womb. It strengthens the prophecy.”

Rafaelo’s head snapped toward you. “WHAT—?!”