Chapter 5, Roberts

  M~

  I owe you. I know the risks you took getting us those supplies, and I’ll make it right when I can.

  It was Alessa who sold us out. She was working for the Marlins all along.

  No sooner had we risked our lives harvesting the corialis, they were on us. It was an ambush, too clean to be coincidence. She led us straight into it.

  They didn’t bother raiding the whole ship, Marlins don’t have much use for dried goods. Just took the corialis and vanished.

  We were lucky, really, to have any food left. The way back was a damn assault.

  You name it, we ran into it. Sirens. Whirlpools. Something with tentacles that nearly tore the rigging apart. We walked straight into every haunted trap the sea has ever carved out.

  I suspect the Marlins wanted the corialis for themselves, but if you catch wind of a sudden influx in the market, keep your ears sharp. We were carrying six hundred pounds of the purest stuff. Violet-sea grade.

  I never would’ve taken a run that forced us through waters like that if the climate weren’t shifting. Ideally, I wouldn’t be relying on inside information from you either. Sure, it helps us avoid the ships with mercenaries and cannons, but it paints a bright target on your back. I don’t like putting you in that kind of risk.

  The crew’s been through hell. I think the only thing staving off a mutiny is the fact that we survived the impossible ten times over. Makes them feel like the gods are on our side, coming out of an ordeal like that mostly whole. Still, I’m indulging every last fantasy they throw at me, just to be safe.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  They spotted a glint on the cliffs when we passed by Prophet’s today. The whole lot were convinced it was the Molten Heart. I went to check it out myself. It was nothing, of course.

  I’ve been hearing rumors about a resistance forming in the belly of the capital. You know it’s not like me to take that kind of talk seriously. There’s always someone claiming a Reckoning is coming, and none of them ever have what it takes to make anything happen. But this time, it’s not them I’m listening to. It’s my gut. The way things are… it feels brittle. Like one heavy footfall and the whole damn world might crack open.

  You’ve said it too, that something real is rising in Thelos, and I want eyes on it. Your eyes. You’ve always been good at slipping into places you don’t belong. And you’ve done well selling me secrets.

  But let’s not pretend like this could change everything. Like there’s a world where I’m not a pirate, where you’re not owned by fear, where we don’t have to sell off parts of ourselves just to survive. You say I wouldn’t need to run anymore. That I could live free. But M, freedom and peace are not the same thing. I’ve tasted freedom and it’s jagged. It cuts. It costs.

  Now. About the thing you keep asking. I’ve ignored your pleas, hoping silence would speak louder than words. You want to know if I’ll take you back? No. I won’t do it.

  Loving you again would mean forgetting who I had to become just to survive what you did. We don’t get to rewrite it, M. You had your chance. The day I handed you his bloodied ring and said, It’s over. It’s only us now. That was your moment to burn the deed with my name on it. To set me free.

  And if I hadn’t been so blinded by needing to be loved by you, I might’ve seen the truth. I might’ve asked for the papers, and I would’ve learned everything I know now.

  I’ll always be the girl your husband bought. The woman who killed him. The half-mad, half-wild thing you claimed to love. But I became someone else after you sold me, M. You know that.

  The price you took for me made me a legend. Maybe that was your gift to me. Or maybe it was just the cage you locked yourself in.

  I would have done anything to let you stay in that godsdamned estate for another year, that’s all my life bought you after all wasn’t it? And still, you chose fear. You weren’t all bad. You were just too soft for the fire.

  We have our arrangement, and it works. You keep your ears open and your pretty pen moving. I keep the coin flowing and the fleet alive. It’s cleaner that way.

  And if you must know whether I miss you, I do.

  ~R