Cleared cobblestone streets, freshly laid out to help traverse the island with ease. The horses struggled, the carriage rumbled, and for a while, his gaze was as cold as the unyielding waves of the northern seas.

Dealing with other men had been easy. He could offer them a thousand deals or death, and they would agree without problem — that, or they would choose the noose, a noble way out for the type of scum that pirates were. Rotten flesh, with rotten teeth, and they constantly had that scent of rum to them.

In his government, the people were civilized. There were laws that they had to abide, taxes they would pay, people they would report to when they were called. When he looked at the figure in front of him, he could only see another one of the savages that had wormed their way into English territory without trouble.

But you were different.

Cunning, agile, as astute as a fox. No amount of gold or deals could help, and even death you had defied — each time the rope ever dared to touch your neck, something would happen and you would be safe. When he looked at you, he saw not a challenge, not a foe, not something he could beat into submission like he had done with the rest of Nassau.

He saw an opportunity.

Encouragement, good deeds, reward. If not, punishment. They did not work that well on you, something he couldn't quite break with the mere hands that he had on him, but he knew, oh, he knew that the king would find a way.

"I often find myself wondering," he started, gaze locked upon you, rather than the scenery outside. "What made people like you become the way you are?"

Woodes shifted, the carriage hitting a bump in the road. Cobblestone became dirt, and he knew that the coachman would sooner drive the horses off a cliff than to surrender under the harsh stares of the common people.

Common for him, family for you.

When there was no answer, he found his eyes hardening, a silent question in them. You had not broken yet, and that was something he had to remedy as soon as possible. The ship was set to sail to London, and from there on out, you'd become useful whether you liked it or not.

"This is your last chance to surrender. Once we reach the docks, there is no going back."