36
Witch. Pirat e
T he room was suffocatingly small, illuminated only by the flicker of a few candles. Shadows danced across the stone walls, and the air felt heavy, as if the walls themselves were closing in. There were no windows, no escape or fresh air. Just one chair in the middle of the room, in which I was now sitting, my hands tied tightly behind my back. My wrists ached from Diego’s roughness, but that was the least of my concerns.
My mind raced, not with fear for myself, but for the crew. Had they made it out? Were they safe? I prayed to Thalassa that they were already on The Rebecca, sailing far from here. I needed to believe that. If I didn’t, the panic swelling inside me could consume me.
“What have you done?” I said, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest .
Before Diego could answer, Prince Edmond stepped forward, cutting him off. “I won’t make this longer than it needs to be, Lady Love.”
I clenched my jaw, fury bubbling beneath my skin. “My name is Donna Balboa”
The prince laughed softly, almost mockingly. “Is it?”
My gaze followed Diego as he moved to a shadowy corner of the room, standing there like a silent sentinel, watching everything unfold. Edmond knelt down in front of me, his cold eyes studying me closely as if I was some rare artifact. His fingers brushed against my jaw, tilting my head to the side, and he gently moved my hair, exposing my neck and the small heart-shaped birthmark etched into my skin.
“So, Lady Love was Balboa’s daughter after all,” the prince whispered, his touch ghosting over the birthmark. He chuckled softly, as if he found some inside joke amusing. “The Gods had us all fooled, didn’t they?”
Suddenly, Edmond tore my mask from my face, exposing me fully. He stepped back, his eyes tracing my features, his lips curling into a smirk. “Just like he said… a beautiful dream .”
I recoiled, confusion washing over me. “What are you—”
Before I could finish, the prince’s hand moved lower, grazing the edge of my skirt, lifting it slowly. The predatory look in his eyes ignited my response. I kneed him hard in the face. “Get off me! ”
Prince Edmond stumbled back, clutching his nose. His calm demeanor fractured, a flash of anger seeping through, and then he nodded at Diego.
And he, who had been watching silently with an unreadable face, moved forward. Diego knelt down, lifting my skirt higher to reveal the dagger Calico had given me and I hid on my thigh, and he handed it to Edmond without a word.
“Bring the sailor,” said the prince, his voice cold.
“But my King isn’t here yet, Your Highness.”
“Do you feel that, Captain?” Edmond responded, trampling the floor loudly. “The ground you are walking on? My land. I have waited long enough. Bring him, I said.”
And then Diego nodded and walked through the door.
The prince’s fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger, his smirk returning as he admired the weapon. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, turning the blade in the candlelight.
I didn’t respond. All I knew was what Calico had told me—that it was a gift from the Governor of Pearlspire.
Edmond continued, his voice soft but charged with a twisted sort of excitement. “A long time ago, a boy tried to steal this from a sovereign. A boy who claimed the Gods spoke to him in dreams—in nightmares too. The court proclaimed him mad, and he was then banished to an orphanage. No one heard of him again until he returned under a new name—a Captain, he said he was. The mad boy who once spoke to the Gods, now commanded fear. ”
Every thought was crossing through my head, but I didn’t dare let my confusion show.
Edmond tilted the dagger, examining it as if it held the answers to some great mystery. “Your father stole something from King Thadrius too, didn’t he? Was it also a piece of this enormous puzzle?”
“My father?” My voice cracked as the prince’s words cut through me. The memories of his story, of what I saw underwater, the vision of him making the deal with Thalassa to save the seas. How he was unjustly murdered for a crime he didn’t commit. He didn’t steal from The Crown. He had offered me to Thalassa, that is the only thing he did.
“The year your father died at the hands of King Thadrius, was the same year piracy began rising, the same year the seas woke up. And after that, pirates claiming the Gods whispered to them in the dark, leading them to treasures and riches from sovereigns…” He leaned closer, his voice a low hum. “Your father was murdered for stealing something of great value to a King because a Goddess told him. And this boy, this captain, stole this dagger from other sovereign because the Gods told him too… Do you believe in coincidences, Gods whisperer? Because I don’t.”
I shook my head, struggling to reconcile what I knew with what the prince was saying. “A Goddess?”
“Your father claimed the Goddess of the seas spoke to him,” Edmond interrupted. “It’s all there, in the one banned transcript of his execution. The only legal document that was banned since the Cleansing of 1720. Isn’t that suspicious, Lady Love? That everything related to the Romantic Order was burned after your father's death, under the justification that they all were legends, fallacies... how they proclaimed as the only truth what was signed and written by sovereigns and presbyters… and immediately after, they banned a legal document, a transcription of a real execution that thousands of people witnessed, a document signed and written by The King Thadrius and the High Father of the Virelanth religion himself, not written by some mad romantic. So, an allegedly document that has the only truth. Why would they ban the truth?” He laughed as he stared into my confused face. “What the taverns sign are not lies, but not full truths either. They built a legend from only one part of that transcribed conversation. The part that our Kings want us to know. But of course I read it all, and what I tell you is true. He spoke of Thalassa, he said the Goddess of the sea told him to do it… how she guided him in every action. Why would they prohibit us from reading that, if they didn't think it was really the truth? Unless they knew it was the truth… but wanted to hide it because it refuted their narrative.”
I swallowed. What was he saying? I couldn’t understand a thing. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I know you can talk to them, Gods whisperer. You are part of their plan. And you are going to tell me everything.”
Before I could respond, the door swung open with a crash, and my heart dropped.
King Thadrius stormed into the room, his face twisted with rage .
“Where is she? Get out, boy,” he barked to the prince.
His lips parted in protest. “You promised—”
“I said get out,” The King cut him off, his voice colder than the deepest waters. “You will have it. But first, I need a word with her. Get out.”
Prince Edmond hesitated but ultimately bowed his head and left, closing the heavy door behind him with a dull thud.
And now it was just me and The King. Like that time he walked me to the altar.
Thadrius’ presence was oppressive, like the weight of a storm about to break. He looked at me with a mixture of disdain and something deeper, something darker.
“I gave you everything,” he muttered, stepping closer, his thumb brushing my cheek, smearing the pink face paint. “And this is how you repay me?” He grabbed my tattooed finger with disgust. “A filthy pirate. Just like your father.”
“Just what you forbade my mother to be,” I spat back, defiance surging through me.
The King froze, the words clearly striking a nerve. His face went rigid, and for the first time, I saw something flicker behind his cruel mask—shock, maybe even guilt.
“Isn’t it?” I pressed, my voice gaining strength.
His eyes darted as he recovered, the contempt resurfacing. “Your mother was a whore living in the streets. You don’t even—”
“Liar!” My voice cracked like a whip, cutting him off. Fury boiled in my veins as I surged forward in the chair. “She was going to marry you! You killed my father because they were in love. You killed your own brother!”
“Silence!” Thadrius roared, striking me hard across the face.
The impact rang in my ears, the sting of the slap followed by the taste of blood as it dripped from my lip. My head snapped to the side, but I didn’t cry out. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“That is not what happened,” Thadrius hissed, his voice low and dangerous.
I turned my head slowly, glaring up at him with unwavering intensity. “Are you calling the Gods liars, then?
The King’s eyes went wide, and a tremor of fear crossed his face. He shook his head slightly, muttering, “Witch.”
I smiled, as I felt like a fire igniting inside me. “Pirate.”
The word seemed to hit him harder than any blow. King Thadrius’ face contorted with rage, and he lunged forward, grabbing my face roughly with one hand, squeezing my jaw so hard it ached. His eyes burned into mine with the fury of a man who had long lost control of his narrative.
“I knew you were living in the streets,” he growled, his breath hot and bitter. “I knew you were no one, I knew you had nothing. I looked for you, child. I looked for you because the memory of your father still haunted me. Because even though you are not my daughter, you have my blood, and my blood will not live in filth.”
He released me abruptly, stepping back, his face twisted in disgust.
“But now? You chose, dear. You chose to be like him. So you will die like him. No matter how much that Captain of the Guard of yours tries to talk me through it, I’m going to end you. And I’m going to end every other pirate next.”
My breath came in shallow, but I met his gaze without flinching. “You can’t do that. You thought you did with my father's execution, but you only made it worse. We are everywhere. In every tide, in every wave. You can’t control the whole Nine Seas.”
The King threw his head back and laughed, a cruel and terrifying sound that echoed off the walls. “Control the seas? No. That is a job for the superstitious and the presbyters. I only wanted you. To continue my bloodline inside the castle where it belongs. But the rest? The rest is a job for them.”
As his words settled, King Thadrius strode to the door and opened it. The prince reentered, his face smug as ever, and behind him came Diego, his expression again unreadable.
Diego’s gaze flickered to my swollen lip and the blood staining my chin. “Did you hit her?” he asked coldly.
“You forget who you are speaking to, boy,” Thadrius snapped.
But what happened next shattered my resolve.
Alastair stepped into the room, and dragging chains behind him, was Captain Calico Pierce.
My heart plummeted as I saw him. His face was bruised, his lips split, his usual spark dimmed but not extinguished. He stood tall despite the heavy chains binding him, his eyes searching the room until they landed on me. Even in the depths of his own suffering his face softened when it found me .
“You see, my dear? This is where your father’s rebellion ends.” Thadrius’s voice rang out. “If I can’t have my bloodline, I’ll destroy his.”
And with that, Diego and The King left the room.