She crawled out of the darkness of the ship's underbelly to a cloudless sky and a brilliant blue sea. Waves sloshed against the hull before receding with a whisper. Gusts of warm wind, though infrequent, hit her hair into her face with determination.

Only a starving monkey trusts timid waters.

That was what the Socotans would say on such a morning. Their Veranan brothers on the island two hundred miles more north didn't talk of monkeys but of sand snakes. More to the west, the Loccians spoke of seagulls and calm waters. Regardless of the phrasing, she had been on enough voyages to trust the wisdom of the Jade Islanders. They had been living by the fickle grace of the Jade Sea for thousands of years, and would do so until the deep blue beast swallowed the islands it had once retched up.

Up on the quarterdeck stood Liene by the helm, her wrists lazily resting on top of the round wood. When facing Alex, the large silver hoops in her ears swung back and forth, tapping her cheeks. "There's a bit of a draft. I suspect high wind will hit us soon."

Alex walked up the stairs towards her. "Have you adjusted the sails yet?"

"Not yet, the view is too good."

"The view?"

Liene's face turned to a grin. She gestured towards the foremast where two one-belters that had joined the crew two springs ago laid practically arm in arm, a half-empty bottle of Palm Tears between them. In the light glinted a single bronze copeck.

"It takes one Greenlander King to take the pirate away from piracy, but not even the holy Fourteen can keep them from fermented palm leaves and gambling away their wages."

"Are you mocking us, Greenie?" Liene jested.

"Maybe," Alex said. She smiled smugly.

"Then perhaps you ought to teach those rascals what Greenlander discipline entails, Alex."

"That would be more boring than a banquet at Sunstone Castle."

She had a better idea. Grabbing a bucket containing foamy seawater, Alex strode towards the front of the ship. 

She whistled on her fingers. As the shrill noise startled the identical twins, she flung the bucket and drenched them, some foam landing in their gaping mouths. 

Hristo coughed. Verban spat loudly. Then their brown eyes widened. Unsteady on their feet, they scrambled up, their wet black hair peeping from underneath their green kerchiefs dripping onto the bottle and the copeck.

"Boyar Alex." Verban's pubescent voice was grating so early in the morning.

His brother repeated her title more softly, "Boyar Alex."

"Bless Charity you meet me instead of Captain Pan," she said calmly. "He'd have you whipped for abandoning your duty."

"We..." Verban began his protest.

Hristo cast a glance at Verban before saying instead, "We're sorry, Boyar Alex."

She placed the tip of one of her heeled boots on the copeck, the other on the bottle. "Finders, keepers, lads. This will teach you."

"But I won those," Verban argued.

"And now you lost them again," she said. "Wake up four of your mates to flatten the sails and move them forwards. Before breakfast, I want to see all loose ropes fastened and everything that rattles stuffed below deck."

"Yes, Boyar Alex," the boys choired. Though Hristo half a breath later than his brother.

As they scampered off, she picked up the coin and the empty bottle, then headed towards Liene on the upper deck.

"Drink it, give it to Pan, or return it to Verban—I don't care." She threw the bottle to Liene, who caught it mid-air. The copeck disappeared into the side-pocket of her dagger's sheath, for safekeeping. "Keep an eye on Verban. If he does a good job, he can have his coin back."

One hand on the rudder, Liene took a swig of the Palm Tears, looked at the bottle, shook it, then finished it. "You spent too much time with the Goddess of Kindness, Alex."

She shrugged the remark away. "Life's already cruel enough."

"Cruel... cruel life," croaked a weak voice.

Its owner, Lana, was more hanging against the railing than sitting up on the deck, her hand clenched so tightly around the wood her knuckles showed white. Her sleek, dark hair slicked against her sunken, pale cheeks. She leapt up, her body smacked against the edge of the ship and started gagging and retching.

Her visible pain clamoured for relief as Alex bound the Princess' hair back into a loose bun, but out of her mouth came nothing but some frothy saliva.

Lana's seasickness had started shortly after leaving the Bay of Diligence. And as much as Alex initially believed it to result from of a week's worth of worry over facing a fleet of Silvermark ships like the ones that had ambushed Seb in Faithwood, the vomiting had been a more constant presence than the favourable north-eastern wind.

"I'm never gonna complain to Papa again about his reluctance to send me overseas," Lana moaned. Her head rested on the rail.

"The Scorians will think Greenlander Princesses are actually green these days," Alex teased. She dabbed Lana's mouth clean.

"The Jade Islanders already know that for a fact," Liene joined in on the joke.

Lana didn't join in the laughter. "It'll be such a disaster—I'm going to look horrible at Seb's wedding. And after facing that humiliation, we'll be boarding this very ship to Socota to entertain Siga and his family. Let Rainah's tigers have me for lunch at the wedding feast, Alex. I'll finally be relieved of this misery."

"Come, come. We can't give those tigers a bag of skin and bones—that's hardly a festive meal."

"I should hire you as a Jester, Pirate Girl. Ha-" Before she could finish that sentence, Lana turned her head to the sea. She heaved and coughed, struggling for breaths in between bouts of stomach-turning spasms.

Below the quarterdeck, the one-belters darted towards the foremast and the mainmast under Liene's careful supervision. As she shouted instructions, Alex glanced up at the union of Jade and the darker Greenlander green stripes flapping in the wind, patting Lana on the back. "Come, come, you're being overdramatic. Under this flag, I'm a privateer, not a pirate. And if you think about it, your father is paying me my weight in gold to watch you throw up."

"Such a wise investment," Lana murmured.

All the jokes and jests aside, the only reason King Thomas and Queen Crystal had agreed to send Lana to Scoria was to have their daughter be the first witness of Seb's marriage. Alex was the second witness. Not because of the long friendship with Seb that easily dated back sixteen years, to the day an overeager baby with spikey black hair crawled away from his mother's watchful eyes to steal Alex's doll that Lucy and Emily were mostly playing with. No, the Greenlander Queen wanted a woman to join Lana on the sea voyage, and preferably one who knew how to handle a sword. The hypocrisy couldn't be bigger.

Then again, neither could the pile of gold she would receive upon safely returning the Princess to Sunstone Castle.

"Smile, Pirate Girl, I'm the pitiable one," Lana fished for attention. "Despite how awful my appearance we'll be, we're going to the biggest wedding of our generation. Just imagine the dresses we'll be wearing, the dances we'll be dancing—"

"... the food we'll be eating."

She narrowed her eyes. "Gluttony will get to you for that remark."

"Gluttony will have my breakfast," sounded a male voice from the Captain's cabin. 

The six gilded belts crossed over Pan's bare chest rattled as he stretched his arms wide. While he showed his teeth in yawning, Alex's eyes drifted to the prominent, well-formed muscles beneath the leather. Stop gawking at him, she told herself.

Suddenly, he froze. "Hold that rope!" he shouted.

Too late. One moment, liquid gulped over the brim of the wooden mug in Pan's hand, the Kraken's Kiss II rocked so hard Alex was hurled forwards and crashed into the white-haired Captain. Seawater splashed as high as the quarterdeck and drenched everything and everyone in its wake.

Lana uttered something between a yelp and a gag.

Three of the one-belters were jumping up to catch the rope belonging to the mainsail flailing to the call of the wind. As Pan rushed down to speed the younglings to aid while cursing them to an eternity in the Seven Hells, Alex scooped her arm under Lana's.

"Time to retreat, Princess."

Like an ordinary drunk too far gone to resist, Lana slumped down on her, her steps weak and hesitant as her body contracted with violent hiccups. There was nothing left to spit back up, not even spit or bile. The stock of ginger sticks and cammon powder had been depleted for weeks; not that any of it had helped. Once the Princess began to vomit, only honouring the God of Patience helped the healing process. Though bad news for her crew who would rather join Captains Kaisa, Learta, and Miro in the fight against the Silvermarkers, the few windless days with the sea like a mirror was what Lana needed to make it to Alburkhan. Seasickness was hardly a ruthless killer, but it claimed its fair share of casualties every year.

Alex brought Lana to bed, helped her sit against the satin pillows before wiping the sweat off her brow. Even though the ornate wooden dividers cut the cabin into Pan's segment—that was, as official statements went, where Alex slept even though she preferred sleeping in the ever-night of the below-deck—and Lana's segment, the scent that hung in the room was predominantly Pan's musky odour of the night. Strong but strangely sweet too.

She caught herself inhaling deeply just to smell it again.

"Get married already," Lana croaked silently.

"To whom?"

"Pan, of course. You're clearly besotted with him. Seb and I volunteer to be your witnesses, and the priest of the Fourteen will already be there and paid for. Whether he officiates one or two marriages—he won't care."

She chuckled nervously. "Seb or the priest?"

"Both." 

Alex grabbed a bucket, then sat down at the foot of the bed.  Not a single vein in her body considered marrying the white-haired Captain of the new Kraken's Kiss. He was a delight to look at, but that was where the infatuation stopped. They weren't good for each other. Too much alike, or too different—she wasn't sure yet.

Lana clutched her arms to her stomach as the Kraken's Kiss veered to the port side. Alex pushed the bucket towards Lana. The Princess's head went in. Noises but no content. This was going to be a long and bad day for her.

Little by little, Lana regained control over her breathing. She stared straight ahead, the light in her blue eyes dull.

Alex stroked her friend's leg. "You know, when your father called me back to Sundale to be sent on a marital mission, I figured it was time to drag Nick out of Bigcastle's kitchen and be a witness to his wedding to you. You two have been betrothed for too many years, when will that wedding take place?"

"When the Ician Sea has melted," she said, forlorn.

"He has always been a Muttonhead," Alex said, certain Nick had messed things up.

"He was my Muttonhead, Seb's general by day and my storyteller by night. I believed the tales I read..." The sigh she uttered turned into a hiccup. "I thought sending him to Bigtown would help restore his sight, let him gain diplomatic knowledge on how to deal with my mother's family. It was a mistake."

"The intentions were good, but a Son of Sloth lies where the cushions are soft and the food is plenty-full."

"But Ice, Alex. Ice!" Lana closed her eyes, swallowing. "And I can't even marry Lieutenant Bart—he has a wife and three children. Why did Seb have to pick a married man as a back-up for Nick? He didn't consider the implications for me at all."

Alex refrained from rolling her eyes, though the urge was strong. Given the weakened state Lana was in, she could forgive the selfish remarks. The primary task of a Greenlander General was to serve his King. Where he slept at night was nobody's concern unless it hindered his duty to the army and the crown. That being said, the current General slept alone in a small bedroom in the east wind of Sunstone Castle.

"There's still George," she said.

"Oh, no, Papa has always blocked that on the grounds of nausea when picturing George and me in acts of Lust. He also wishes to focus on the future, and by law, George is still married. His wife perished at sea and was never found. Three more years—then he'll be declared a widower. And even then, Papa would have to be dead before Mama dares to arrange that wedding."

Alex bit her lip. The details of Greenlander law went over her head as they had the tendency to make simple matters quite complicated. "Jhara has a younger brother," she suggested to Lana.

"David," the Princess hummed. "Queen Rainah and Alafin Cyrus gave him a Greenlander name on purpose, the idea of which revolted Mama. She found it provocative."

"So David, then. That's settled." Alex grinned.

Lana nudged her foot against Alex's thigh. "I never realised how keen you are on me getting married, Pirate Girl. I thought you detested marriage."

"For myself, not for others. And I know for a fact that you're a hopeless romantic. I'm keeping your best interests at heart here."

"Yet the one man I used to love neither returns my letters nor answers my summons to court. If he doesn't answer to his duty soon, Mama and Papa will find me another symbolic suitor. Another face of the future."

"Which would be?" Alex asked.

Before Lana could answer that question, a loud hiccup forced out of her. As she pressed her lips together, a faint caw of a seagull came from far away.

"Land," she muttered.

"That can't be, unless..." Alex crawled to the other side of the bed, to the round, salt-stained window. She sat down on her knees, peering, but unable to tell whether the grey outline in the distance was a cloud or a shoreline. The seagull was nowhere to be seen.

Footsteps jerked her away from the mysterious noise. Pan had entered the room.

"Cosy, are we, ladies?" he gibed. "I'll have you know that the sail of the mainmast has been restored. I'll gather the men and the women later to whip Desi—she let the rope slip."

"You're the Captain, Pan. You do what you have to do," Alex said, not hiding the trace of disapproval in her voice. When the only reaction he gave was a lifting of his eyebrow, she asked. "Is that the isle of Inio I see?"

"No, not Inio," he said. "We're too far north for Inio. That'll be Faria."

"Scoria," Lana said faintly. "Can't we dock the ship there, then send word to Alburkhan to move Seb's and Jhara's wedding to a different location? I would give my soul to the Seven Hells for actual land beneath my feet."

"If we can keep this type of wind, it'll be less than a week, My Lady. We'll pass plenty of islands between Faria and Alburkhan, so if your condition becomes worrisome, we'll make an extra stop so you can recover."

Lana nodded, murmured. "That's good. You're a good lad, Captain Pan. Now, pray tell me, what are your thoughts on marriage?"

"Err, My Lady, I don't really have an opinion. Me and my crew will be vigilant while you are in Alburkhan. We've been warned—"

"No, no," Lana dismissed him. "I'm not talking about Seb's wedding. I was speculating on your marriage, Captain."

"... warned that not all Scorians will be too thrilled to receive Greenlanders," Pan finished his thought. He then opened his mouth to speak but blinked rapidly before saying, "I'm not getting married, My Lady."

"But if you did, who would it be to?" Lana persisted.

"Don't answer that." Alex tapped her finger against her head. "She's delusional—the milk in that coconut of hers has gone sour long ago."

Pan crossed his arms in front of him, his bushy white eyebrows still up. "I see."

"See your future wife," Lana cooed in a hushed tone.

Alex snorted. If the Princess were in any better shape, she would tickle her friend until she surrendered. The next best strategy was diverting attention.  "Pan, if that's Faria, then the next island on our route will be Taswiq won't it?"

"Correct, and if the weather won't steer us too much off course, we should see the isle around the second sunrise."

"Any chance it'll still be night, you reckon?"

"Hard to predict, but likely, yes."

"I hope we do, and then a clear, dark sky," she mused. "The best kind of darkness to see the beacons of the Scorian isles."

While Lana mumbled something undoubtedly witty, Alex's mind was occupied with far more important matters. So many years at sea but never had she gotten this far south. In a few days, she would climb to the highest point of the mizzenmast to watch the red arrow getting shot into the heavens. The watchers of Taswiq would notice the fire and, a few instances later, launch a red flare to would be visible to the military base on Hoadiq a good twenty miles further. From there, the light would travel to Hoalat, the four Aqids and every island in the Bay of Alburkhan. On a bright night, it would take but an hour for Alburkhan to know where their prominent guest was. The colour codes of the islands assured the exact location. Red for Taswiq, yellow for Hoadiq, orange for any of the four Aqid islands. After that, blue, green, purple, white, and then Alburkhan.

"Would you like the honour of igniting the first arrow, Alex?" Pan asked.

She turned towards him, hummingbirds fluttering in her chest. "I can?"

"Sure, if the weather is decent enough—otherwise I'll send Desi or Verban up. If it's a clear night, you'll have the best spot too, on top of the mainmast," he said nonchalantly. "If the stars and the tides are on your side, you may see the fire travel as far as the bay. So, if you want."

"Yes, I do. I do!" She was almost screaming.

"Right answer to the wrong question," Lana whispered as Alex crawled off the bed.

Choosing to ignore it, Alex was saved by the Princess reaching for the bucket once more. Then, she met Pan's tilted gaze. He looked confused. "Is there something I should know?"

"Gods and Goddesses, no." Alex curled her hand around his rock-hard upper arm, pulling him away from the Princess. "She's exhausted. Let's give her some peace—let her sleep—while we fetch breakfast and you can tell me all I need to know about igniting that first flame to light the beacons."

"Well, there's not much to say. It's more simple than shooting a burning arrow but harder than aiming your blaster to the sky," Pan said.

"I'm fairly good at both."

"I'd even say you're excellent."

"If the wind lays down, do you think we could have some practise sessions?" She batted her eyelashes on purpose.

Pan chuckled. "You want to shoot at Verban and Desi too?"

Alex slammed her fist into his shoulder. "They're still young. I'm sure they mean well."

"So they'll mean well when the Kraken lies at the bottom of the Jade Sea?"

"Shooting at them won't solve anything. They'll grow scared of you."

"Then they'll come to you with their ridiculous greenie-like questions," he said. "Problem solved."

"Well, then I'll answer them."

"Good, then that's clear."

"Very clear."

She left the room to Lana's ridiculous muffled humming of 'Kiss Those Lips', a song she hoped was only known in the northern part of The Greenlands. 

So what if his fine muscles, chiselled jawline and those mysterious red eyes were nice to look at. She and Pan weren't even friends; they were crewmates and business partners, at best. If she were to bind herself to a man, it would be someone she loved instead of someone the Goddess of Lust taunted her with. Not Pan.

Hristo and a few other one-belters were clearing the deck, their jet black Jade Islander hairs dancing to the tunes of the surging wind. Verban and Desi were sitting by one of the cannons, he tugging at the ropes and she securing those too loose. They got up and moved to the next one. Thorough and diligent.

Alex fished the copeck out of the sheath of her dagger and held it between her fingers. She waited for Desi and Verban to finish, then appeared in front of the lad.

The look in his eyes was something between despair and defiance. "Boyar Alex," he uttered as if to say 'what now'.

"Good job with the cannons," Alex complimented him.

A smile appeared on his tawny-skinned face, shy but curious. "I merely did my duty."

She opened her hand. "Don't lose it again."

"I won't, Boyar Alex. I don't have a gull's skull."

No, just a plain old Muttonhead.

A drop of water landed on her shoulder, quickly followed by more. Too soft and too regular to come from the sea. She raised her head to the clear sky, looked around, but there wasn't a cloud in sight. Rain on a bright day.

Only a starving monkey trusts timid waters.