The low murmur of voices was like the ocean's song, comforting and familiar. Still hanging on the edge of dreams, Isla imagined she could hear the sound of her father's voice in the quiet rumbling of conversation. She stirred.

"Papa," she mumbled, needing him.

A gentle hand stroked her hair. He had come back to her.

Isla opened her eyes and stared up into a pair she had known all her life. But it was not the ones see longed to see. A strand of grief twisted in her chest.

Perched on the edge of her bed, Hawk studied her, seeing the moment of clarity and the emotions that followed. The lines fanning out from his eyes deepened with worry.

"I'm fine," Isla said, her voice raspy.

Hawk knotted his hands and leaned over his knees. "You were beaten, cut and unconscious. From the bump on the back of your head, I was afraid you might not wake."

Isla reached for her leg, feeling between the ripped fabric of her pants to the stitched up slash. It throbbed but the severity of the pain had gone away. Grateful, she relaxed into the comfort of her bed. When she peered around her cabin, she found that it was crowded with half the crew. Everyone from Bin to Orin to Roland watched her from across the room, their concern as prominent as Hawk's.

"I'm alive," she amended.

Chuckles and relieved smiles passed between the men. It was only as the tension dissipated that Isla realized it must have been heavy between them, one more companion in the room that set everyone else on edge. Isla propped herself up on her elbow. As she tried to push herself up, Bin rushed forward.

"Easy now," he said.

He assisted her, until she was upright, legs dangling off the side of the mattress. Isla pressed her hands into the bed, gathering herself together. Though out of the worst of it, she was far from steady.

An invisible hand knocked against her head as little fists beat tattoos across her body. Roland appeared before her and knelt, holding a glass of water. As she accepted the gift, she met his amber eyes. Where she expected to see worry, she found unwavering calm. His faith in her hadn't altered.

After Isla drained the glass, she surveyed the men waiting. As she locked with each of their gazes, she was met with the same steady respect that had always been there. They were seeing her at her worse and yet it changed nothing. Isla's throat tightened, overwhelmed by their unflinching support. Holding in her emotions, she swallowed and cleared her throat.

"We will leave for Gadolphie tonight. See that we have enough supplies to last awhile. Once we reach our destination we will not remain long."

The men all nodded and bustled out the door to prepare for departure. When the last of them were gone and the door was shut, Isla sagged under the lie.

"What is in Gadolphie?" Hawk asked.

Staring at the floor, Isla shook her head. "Nothing. We are going to Loria." She raised her head. "I need you to make sure Trager is aware that we intend to sail to Gadolphie and assign him a task that gives him a reason to get off the ship." She sighed, her heart heavy. "Then have Brockton tail him. I need to be certain of his betrayal before we act." 

Hawk rose. "I'll see to it." He paused. "What lies in Loria?"

Weary, Isla rubbed her eyes. "The end, I hope."

Hawk laid a hand on her shoulder, drawing her focus up to his understanding brown eyes. Where he could have spoken, given words of reassurance and false promises of the future, he didn't. Instead he let his presence speak for him. She nodded as if he had said all she needed to hear. He dropped his hand and Isla straightened, feeling the soreness in her ribs.

"You haven't locked Raif away in the brig, have you?"

The lines around Hawk's eyes softened. "No. He explained what occurred and with your trust in him, I was inclined to believe him."

Isla contemplated her hands, touching the healed scars that she had accumulated over years of putting herself in the worst of situations.

"He turned on his father's men for me," she said, quietly.

"It seems he is truly deserving of our trust."

"He is." Isla tugged herself out of thoughts of Raif. "Send Sparrow in with water."

Hawk left and Isla surveyed her father's cabin. The light had changed, the sun sitting low in the sky, sending out long shadows across the floor. She stared at the motes of dust that twirled in the sunlight, wishing to see a shadow of her father disturb them, but he didn't. She could still hear his voice in her mind, but his ghost was fading. She let out a tired breath.

After Isla had bathed and dressed, she felt a bit more human, though she was one stitched together with bruises and sore muscles. Making a slow, hobbled trek across the cabin to her door, she opened it and called to Sparrow. When he appeared in the corridor, she instructed him to send Raif to her. Then closing the door, she moved to her desk, leaning against it. Her leg could take her weight but her mobility would be slow in returning.

When Raif entered, he studied her. His hair was slightly damp and the rich attire he had worn for Pascal was gone. Once again the roguish nobleman stood before her. Isla shifted when she realized that just as he had been studying her, she had been doing the same.

"I wanted to know if you were alright," she asked. "I wasn't aware of any injuries you might have taken in the fight but I was also not aware of much."

Raif's lips twitched at a smile as he tucked his hands away in his pockets. "Is that concern for my well being I hear?"

"You are on this ship and so that means you are part of the crew. It is my job to care about the crew."

"Which means you care about me," Raif said, taking a step closer, his smile no longer hiding.

Isla held his gaze, not letting the teasing note in his voice rattle her.

"Were you injured?" she asked, bypassing an admittance.

"No, other than a few bruises, I'm fine. You can stop thinking about me."

With his gray eyes holding hers, Isla wasn't sure that was possible. So instead of fighting a losing battle, she opened an avenue for different thoughts.

"I need your help," she said, using the desk for support as she moved to the chair behind it. As she went to lower herself down, Raif was there by her, helping her as if it were the most natural thing to do. The action brought him close to Isla and she could smell the sun and sea on him.

"What do you need from me?" he asked.

Isla retrieved blank sheets of paper and laid them on the desk. "I need you to outline the palace and its grounds as best as you can."

"Very well," he said. Taking a chair from around the dining table, he set it beside Isla's and went to work. His pen strokes were clean and efficient. "The crew talks of making our way to Gadolphie." He didn't look at her when he spoke. "If my knowledge serves well it is situated between here and Loria."

"You would be correct."

Raif twisted his head to her. "You're leaving a false trail." He focused back on his work. "A wise move."

"One I wish had never been necessary."

"I am sorry it is."

Raif continued to work, breaking down the palaces levels into rough approximations of rooms and corridors. The scratch of the pen on the paper was the only sound for a long time, the pair remaining in companionable silence.

"Raif," Isla said. He looked at her, but she found she couldn't meet his gaze. "You went against your father for me. I don't know what that could mean for you...thank you." She finally looked at him. "That is a debt I can not repay."

"I ask for no payment. I would not hesitate to act in the same way again if it was needed."

As Isla held his stormy gray eyes she became attuned to the rest of him. The way his chest rose and fell with each breath. The opening of his shirt that exposed his tanned skin. The muscles of his forearms where his sleeves were rolled back. The point of contact, where his knee rested against hers. The way his throat moved as he swallowed. The assurance of his body as he shifted towards her.

"Isla-"

A knock on the door severed their connection. Isla blinked as if pulling herself out of a trance. When she focused on Raif, he was leaning away. Caging in her emotions, Isla stared down at the half-finished drawing on the desk.

"Come in," she said.

Hawk entered a plate of food in hand. He eyed the pair seated behind the desk, but Isla knew there was nothing to see. Raif was continuing the task of mapping out the palace and Isla rested back in her chair. Grabbing a second chair, Hawk joined them, laying the plate of food before Isla.

"You need your strength," he said.

Isla didn't argue, all too aware of how her wounds wore away at her. Hawk watched as Raif worked, reserving his remarks for when the task was done. Isla tore a piece of bread and ate it absentmindedly, barely tasting it, only knowing her body needed it.

When Raif finished off the final detail, he pushed the paper into the center of the desk, giving Isla and Hawk a clear view. "The palace is made up of four different levels," he started. "The second and third are designed for residence. The fourth is for the royal family and heavily guarded. Lucky for us though, Viscount Drollan will be in the less guarded guest suites."

When Hawk didn't ask who Drollan was or why they needed a layout of the palace, Isla guessed Raif had brought him up to date on what they had discovered while she was unconscious.

"Our difficulty will be discovering where Drollan has the emerald stored," Raif said. "It's possible he will have asked the King to store it in his vaults. If that is so we face a more challenging problem."

Isla scanned the four different outlines of rooms, corridors, and stairways.

"You forget before we even face that problem we have a bigger one," she said.

"What is that?" Raif asked.

"We need to be able to make it onto the palace grounds without being apprehended."

At this, Raif leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. "I don't see that as a problem at all. I already know how you will enter the palace grounds."

Isla cast him a skeptical glance, which only egged on his smile.

"You will arrive as my guest. Who would stop the lady that I escort in on my arm?"

The image was one Isla couldn't block from her mind. A tight-fitting dress pressing in on her chest and stomach. A long skirt that was cumbersome and made motion resistive. Exposed shoulders, chest and arms. To complete the image were the hundreds of eyes that stared at her as if trying to steal her soul.

Isla rested her elbow on the armrest of her chair, head cocked at Raif. He grinned as if already seeing her in a dress and liking what he saw.

"Raif," she said. "How do the women on the Court regard you?"

The question dimmed his amusement. He cleared his throat and shifted.

"And don't lie about it," Isla said. "The truth."

Raif stilled. "They appreciate my attention."

Isla knew he was putting it mildly. He was handsome with an air of reckless adventure. She had no doubt every woman vied for his attention and affection. It was hard to see what woman wouldn't want him.

"If that is so," Isla said, "when I arrive on your arm, into a place where you said people are taught to steal secrets how do you imagine I will be able to move about unnoticed?"

She didn't wait for an answer, already seeing from his face she had gotten her point across. She turned back to the layout.

"I will not be wearing a dress and I will not be on your arm, but using you as a means to enter the grounds still holds promise. Hawk, thoughts?"

Hawk bent forward, hands clasped. "It could be possible to act as Raif's coachmen. We would gain entry through the stables." He tapped the paper, pointing out a doorway that led from the stables to the servants' corridor. "Raif could meet us in this passageway and guide us to the residence quarters. His presence would keep us from being questioned."

Isla nodded. "Next we would have to figure out where Drollan is staying. If the emerald is not among his things we would have to talk to the man himself."

Raif laid one arm on the desk. "I could convince Drollan to either accompany me to his rooms or even convince him to show me the emerald. He's arrogant and would happily show off his prize."

"What of guards, if he has any?" Isla asked. "What would be our exit? If you're seen then people will want to know where you've been, you could be detained for an unknown amount of time, which could lead to our discovery. What of your father's men? Would he have some waiting at the port when we arrive in Loria? What of transport? A carriage, you would need to arrive in the style that fits your station."

Hawk dropped his chin on top of his interlocked fingers. "All excellent questions. We have a lot to work out." He met Isla's eyes. "But at least we know where we are going."

The room around them slowly darkened as they analyzed every possibility and dissected every problem. Eventually, lanterns were lit and their glow swept away the shadows until they were brushed into corners and underneath tables.

When it felt as if they were beginning to develop a plan, the door to the cabin opened and Brockton stepped inside. Isla tensed, remembering what he had been sent to do. He betrayed nothing as he hovered by the door.

"The ship is stocked and ready to sail," he said. He glanced at Raif before looking at Isla. She heard the unspoken question and nodded even as her heart hurt as to what she would hear. "Trager met with Jakks inside the Boar's Head tavern." Brockton clenched his jaw, then went on. "He relaid our plans to sail to Gadolphie."

Sighing, Isla sank back in her chair. She had definitive proof of the betrayal. The truth sat heavy on her shoulders. Before her was proof she had failed to be enough. To be the captain Trager could trust.

"Thank you, Brockton," she said. "Gather all the men on deck. We will follow you."

Brockton nodded and slipped away. As the door clicked shut, Isla covered her face with her hands.

"Isla." Hawk's tone was gentle and she didn't want it. She did not deserve kindness when she had proven herself to be less than her father. "This is not on you."

She dropped her hands. "I don't see how you can believe that?"

Hawk placed a hand on her shoulder. "Because he did not only betray you, but he betrayed all of us. You can not carry a man's crime when it was he who made it."

"If my father were-"

"If your father were here he would be proud of how you have handled the burden that has fallen to you. He would tell you that there are some men who are tempted and come up short. If gold could sway Trager now, it would have even if your father were still captain."

He squeezed her shoulder.

"Do not see yourself as you feel you are. But how we all see you. Strong. Determined. Fearless. And worthy of loyalty because you are loyal in return."

Isla felt none of those things. She felt weary, beaten, and tired, but staring into Hawk's eyes she saw that he could see what she couldn't. She trusted his judgment and so let his words be true for her. He nodded as if see how what he said took hold.

"Thank you."

She rose, using the desk to help her. Before she could take a step, Raif held out his arm to her. Grateful, she took it, using him for support and balance. As she walked, she gripped his arm, needing him more than she wished she did.

On deck the crew stood around talking in quiet voices, sensing there was something building. When Isla appeared, needing Raif's help, they went silent, their concern renewed. As Isla gazed out on them she saw it wasn't a concern brought on by thinking she was weak, but one brought on by love for her.

"Trager," she said.

The crowd all glanced around and parted as Trager made his way forward, his face passive. For a long moment, she said nothing. He tugged at the edge of his sleeve, uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Surrounded by men circling their fiftieth year, he looked young, barely passed thirty-two. 

"I'm going to give you a chance to come clean," she said.

Trager wrinkled his brow in confusion and he gazed about as if trying to understand what was happening. "What do you mean?"

Isla let out a breath. "Are you going to deny that you've been betraying your crew?"

The men all stiffened and stared at Trager with disbelieving eyes.

"What?" Trager said, indignant. "You think I would betray the men I work alongside with?"

Isla was slow to speak, letting the penetrating stares of the crew and the silence make him squirm.

"I don't think. I know. You were followed and seen giving away our destination to Jakks."

The crew drew in towards Trager, their faces hardened with anger and hurt. Trager spun around, holding his hands up in defense.

"It's not-"

"Why?" Isla asked.

The men curled their fists but waited. Trager turned his back on the sea of glares to face Isla. She watched as he realized there was no way out and how it sparked his own fury. He jabbed an accusing finger at her.

"You think I signed on with a crew to be lead by a weak girl?"

Isla held her ground though the remark stung.

"When your father died I would have left, except I was trapped here because of a debt that he made, for you. So you could have your own ship. Because of your selfishness, I was unable to leave or else I would have been bound to Lord Sutherland."

He spat the accusations. Ones that Isla had lived with since her father died. Ones that plagued her. Ones that had spurred her to take every risk so the crew would not be taxed more because of her. She had no response. How could she deny what he said when she knew it was true.

"We would have absorbed your portion of the debt," Orin growled, his normally placid face contorted with outrage.

"If you had talked, we would have let you go," Hawk said, icily.

The men all nodded their assent and Isla felt weak. They did not blame her. They did not hold their situation against her.

"You betrayed us," Roland said, his airy voice sharp with reproach. "Because you were the weak one."

"You can blame no one but yourself for being trapped," Brockton said. "We did not hold you here, you chose to stay."

At the knifed words, Trager backed up a step, seeing as the tide was turning against him, mounting until it was ready to dash him against the rocks.

"We were your family and you sold us," Isla said, making Trager swing back to her. He spat at her.

"You are not my family," he said.

"Not anymore." She looked to Orin. "Break his leg and leave him on the dock."

Trager blanched and sprinted for the gangway, but Loch and Heath caught him before he could escape. They held him down as Orin strode forward with a hammer. Trager struggled and screamed obscenities which were twisted into howls of pain which decreased as Loch and Heath hauled him off the ship. When they returned, they pulled the gangway in.

Without a single command, the crew dispersed, climbing the rigging and dropping the sails. They moved as one creature, fluid and trusting of those around them as the cries of the traitor faded away.

**********************************************************************

To freedom! To the Black Pearl!

Great seas! That was intense! I mean did she really have to break his leg! That seems like overkill. Though he did betray his crew...okay so maybe it was needed.

Tell me what you think of it all? 💭💬🗯🌚

(Also, if you can, spare a hug for major_dice and lost love.)

Everyone's thinking it, I'm just saying it...Isla in a dress! 💃🏼

I mean all her reasonings were solid but still, who wanted to see Isla in a dress walking in on Raif's arm?

Gosh she would have made all those Court woman so jealous! And Raif would look so good beside her. Talk about dynamic duo! Well, I guess it shall never be. She'll do her whole, wear all black and sneak around thing and we shall never see the anger looks from the jelly jelly women. What a pity!

Câu hỏi của chương (Vietnamese): What is your favorite book genre?

Mine: fantasy. I love seeing how other authors create worlds. Also in fantasy it's usually about a quest, not romance though there usually is romance on the side.

Vote for magical worlds, comment on warriors of old, follow the dragon...I have no clue what i'm saying anymore.