"Are you alright, Captain?"
Edmar asked, his hands keeping a grip on the ship's wheel.
It had been two full hours since they had managed to escape the proximity of the Blue Scar and, miraculously, escaped the colossal worm monster as well.
They hadn't managed to kill it, but the beast had ultimately plunged back into the black depths of the sea and abandoned its pursuit, for which every man on board was very much thankful.
Once the threat had passed, a collective wave of relief had washed over the crew, and they immediately set a hard course back to Grayhaven.
They had all seen more than enough for one lifetime, and they feared the Blue Wind wouldn't survive the journey back. The ship had suffered a lot of damages. The hull was cracked in several places, and water was steadily leaking into the lower decks.
They had done their best to plug the breaches with empty barrels, loose timber, and whatever else they could find, but everyone knew this ship was not sailing again without an extensive expensive refit.
Thankfully, Ulrich had already paid them handsomely, and had guaranteed them even more gold once they returned him safely to port.
So, despite having just put their lives squarely on the line, they were actually looking forward to the payout.
"Captain?" Edmar prompted, glancing over at Meera when she failed to answer.
She was lost deep in her own thoughts, standing at the edge of the quarterdeck with her arms propped heavily on the rail, staring out toward the horizon.
The very first, faint hints of dawn were beginning to bleed into the sky. Perhaps she was watching the sunrise, or perhaps she was simply gazing at the dark sea as it reflected the endless, starry expanse above.
It was, after all, one of the greatest perks of living on the sea.
Everything felt endlessly vast, and you were constantly rewarded with the most breathtaking views of the sky.
That was what Meera always used to say. But right now, she didn't seem to be appreciating the scenery at all. She was entirely lost in her own head.
Ever since the exact moment Ulrich had pulled her from the jaws of death, she had been standing right there, completely stripped of her usual loud, zealous attitude.
It looked as though she was still reeling from the shock of it all.
Then again, the entire crew was still reeling from what they had just witnessed.
A gargantuan worm monster that had nearly dragged them, ship and all, straight to the bottom of the ocean.
Their Goddess of Fortune, moments away from being devoured alive.
And a mad, red-haired nobleman who had thrown himself directly into the beast's throat without a second of hesitation, only to burst back out mere seconds later, carving his way through the monster's flesh from the inside out. He had used the creature's own thrashing tail as a springboard, launching himself through the air with Meera safely locked in his arms, before crashing onto the deck of their retreating ship.
The entire sequence felt like something ripped directly from the pages of the mythical tales they all used to read.
It was all well and good to romanticize the life of a sea scavenger, but the bitter reality of the ocean was rarely as fantastical as the stories claimed. At least, that was what they had all believed, right up until they met Ulrich.
He wasn't even a sailor like them, yet he moved with such terrifying dexterity and fearlessness that every man on deck felt a sense of shame just watching him.
Unsurprisingly, not a single member of the crew had dared to utter another insult about 'fancy nobles' since. Even Grover, who had been the most vocal and hostile of the lot, had snapped his mouth shut.
As for Meera, Edmar couldn't help but want to chuckle.
From the very first moment the handsome noble had stepped onto the docks, she had been completely destabilized. But this... this was something else entirely.
Well, he supposed he should just be happy for his Captain. She had just been rescued exactly like a damsel in distress, a role entirely alien to her, considering she usually sailed the seas acting far more like the conquering hero than a princess in need of saving.
And he wasn't the only one who noticed. Down on the main deck, the crew had gathered in small clusters, whispering and smirking from ear to ear as they watched their usually ferocious Captain.
She was completely lost in her thoughts. She had hadn't recovered her coat, her captain's hat, and her cutlass; she wore nothing but a loose tunic secured tightly by her corset, and her cropped breeches. She stood there barefoot, leaning against the rail with one arm while resting her cheek in her hand, her long, sea-blue hair blowing softly in the wind. She possessed a distinctly soft, girlish look that they had never seen before.
It was a breathtaking sight, yet her crew was far more interested in mocking the woman, who was usually so aggressive for suddenly looking exactly like a maiden struck by first love.
"Check her out, Grover. She's gotta be dreamin'."
"Yeah, no doubt. Probably dreamin' 'bout that red-headed hottie. Heh."
"Look, look! Think she just turned red!"
"By the damn sea, wish we could bottle that look!"
"Shit… Captain's actually grinnin'. Never thought I'd live to see it."
"You never seen her smile before, ya idiot?"
"Not like that! Only smile I know's the one she gets right before she kicks someone's ass!"
"True that. Right now, she's smilin' like that tavern wench at Grover. Heh."
"Which wench? The one old enough to be yer grandma, ya prick?!"
"She's the only one who'll even look at ya, Grover! Don't screw it up!"
The crew burst into a muffled, raucous laughter.
Right at that exact moment, Meera slowly turned her gaze toward them.
Every single man froze mid-laugh.
She gave them a terrifyingly sweet, entirely silent smile before pushing off the rail and descending the steps to the main deck.
The crew instantly scattered like roaches, pretending to sweep the deck, coil ropes, and perform various other menial, entirely useless tasks in the dark of night.
Thankfully, she ignored them completely, walking straight past them and heading down the stairs toward the captain's cabin.
She reached the wooden door and paused, her hand hovering hesitantly over the brass handle for a long moment before she finally pushed it open, stepped inside, and clicked it shut behind her.
Turning around, she immediately started speaking.
"I—I wanted to..."
But the words died instantly in her throat.
Ulrich was standing near the table, completely shirtless.
He had obviously been given replacement clothes from the crew's stores, so they were far from high quality, just a pair of rough, poor-quality silk trousers and a simple tunic that he was currently holding in his hands, right on the verge of pulling it over his head.
He froze, glaring at her with a stern, and annoyed expression.
"Knock before you enter," he said.
But Meera didn't reply. Her jaw had simply dropped open, and she stood there, entirely devoid of shame, transfixed by his bare chest.
He was lean, yet perfectly toned. He had broad, square shoulders and a rigid body marred only by a few faint scars that somehow only made him look even more attractive.
Ulrich's face twisted in visible discontent as he watched her brazenly ogling him.
He quickly turned his back to her and pulled the cheap tunic over his head.
It was rough fabric and hung slightly loose over his frame, yet somehow, Ulrich's natural looks made the entire crude outfit appear stylish.
"What do you want?" Ulrich asked, turning back around to face her. "I will pay you the remaining gold once I have returned to my lands. I will send an envoy..."
He stopped dead at the sudden, rapid sound of footsteps closing the distance between them.
He barely had time to think before Meera pounced on him. She grabbed two fistfuls of his rough tunic, hauled him forcefully downward, and sealed her lips against his.