With the taste of salt on her tongue and the wind in her face, it felt like she had the world at her fingertips. Anne grinned—clinging to some of the rigging—as she stared out at the horizon line. Majority of the ragtag crew was scrubbing the deck, she'd lucked out... Frederick hadn't. Her brother was currently down on his knees performing back breaking labor and all she did was smile. She knew he was infuriated, grumbling under his breath, but the irony of the situation was too much to hide her own laughter.

As the captain was preoccupied with something seemingly more important, his first had assigned the roles amongst the crew. Frederick had been told to swab the decks while she'd been told to perch in the nest. She'd spent the better part of the afternoon scoping the seas for trouble. But as her watch shift ended—and another took her place—she'd found another interesting situation on her descent. There stood the captain, his first mate, and another woman aside from Captain Kidd.

Anne frowned. She didn't mind the trousers so much, but it did make her question how much danger as a woman she'd have been in. For this woman may have dressed like a pirate, but she did not carry herself with the swagger of Kidd—more so like the courts that Anne herself was well familiar.

"Beckett!" the first mate—Gibbs as she recalled—exclaimed. His eyes shifted toward the crew as his voice lowered to a hush.

"Yes, they're signed, Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company," the woman explained, eyeing the papers that Captain Sparrow had taken.

Anne almost slipped from the rigging. The mention of a name so familiar was not something she had expected. Lord Beckett was a name of respect in the courts, there was even mention of him as a potential candidate prior to her engagement to Charles III of Spain. She managed to regain her balance and catch the gasp in her throat before it left her lips.

"Will was working for Beckett, and never said a word," Gibbs noted, glancing toward Sparrow for some direction. The captain only huffed under his breath, so Gibbs continued as a sudden realization crossed his expression, "Beckett wants the Compass. Only one reason for that."

"Of course." Jack nodded his head, apparently on the same page. "He wants the chest."

"Yes, he did say something about a chest," the woman agreed.

"If the company controls the chest, they controls the sea," Gibbs added.

"A truly discomforting notion, love," Sparrow said, emphasizing his point so that the woman might understand their predicament.

"And bad," Gibbs restated, simplifying Sparrow's word so that someone who didn't come from a background on the seas could actually understand. "Bad for every mother's son what calls himself a pirate. I think there's a bit more speed to be coaxed from these sails. Brace the foreyard!"

Mr. Gibbs rushed forward, instructing the crew to move with hast as they followed his directions. Anne considered completing her descent, but her ear twitch as Captain Sparrow continued the conversation.

"Might I inquire how as to how you came by these?" Sparrow asked, lifting the woman's papers into the air.

"Persuasion," she answered vaguely.

"Friendly?" Sparrow asked as if implying something else.

"Decidedly not," she replied, her eyes narrowing.

"Will strikes a deal for these and upholds it with honor. Yet you're the one standing here with the prize. 'Full pardon, commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company.' As if I could be bought for such a low price," Sparrow scoffed, tucking the letters into his coat as he turned to walk away.

The woman quickly followed after the captain, desperation creeping into her tone. "Jack, the Letters, give them back."

"No." He paused then grinned, briefly glancing over his shoulder. "Persuade me."

The woman frowned. But as she stepped forward, her voice lowered into a sultry whisper. "You do know Will taught me how handle a sword."

Sparrow's eyes closed as if he cherished the threat. Then he slowly turned to face the woman, his grin more amused than before. "As I said... Persuade me."

She said nothing, but her eyes screamed a dozen different replies. Her tongue remained silent though as she stormed away from the conversation to the other side of the ship.

And now that the party had split, Anne had a decision: follow her curiosities or stay away from the light. Kidd had explicitly stated not to get involved. She could vaguely remember a couple of death threats, but nothing too specific at this time. Not to mention she'd never been very good at following orders... she had run away from her own arranged marriage after all.

"Oy!" Her thoughts and concentration were broken as Sparrow called up to her.

She lost her balance—and her grip on the ropes—falling from the rigging with little grace as her arms waved wildly in the air. The wind whipped around her and her breath caught in her chest as she slammed against the sea. The current should have immediately trapped her beneath the hull of the boat, shredding her to pieces; however, her unpredictable streak of luck took a turn, knocking her against the side of the boat without dragging her under. The impact was enough to take the breath from her lungs and the consciousness of her mind.

The pressure in her head thrummed as her vision started to fade, but there was a moment where she believed her brother had seen her fall. That he'd plunged into the salt blanket and save her from yet another self-inflicted disaster. The water stirred around her, surely someone would come...

Only it wasn't her brother, but the familiar eyes of a stranger.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Anne sputtered and coughed—choking on the salt of the sea—but at least was alive and breathing. She gasped, clutching at her throat as she sat up while heaving the water from her lungs. Her wet curls clung to her face while she shuddered with cold; however, as a pair of arms wrapped around her, warmth soon followed.

"You're alive!" her brother whispered, tears cracking his voice. "Thank God you're alive!"

"What happened?" she asked, but her lungs spasmed with another string of coughs.

"You fell overboard," Frederick replied.

"It's a miracle she wasn't dashed to bits," Mr. Gibbs agreed.

"I warned you, Jack," Captain Kidd spat, poking Sparrow in the chest. "I told you there would be consequences should you damage my cargo."

"You weren't exactly forthcoming, love," Jack countered, shifting the blame away from himself. "I knew there was something off about these two, but I never agreed to harbor England's royalty."

"By Jove!" Gibbs paled as he eyed the pair of royals. "You mean..."

"The crown prince himself and his darling little sister," Jack agreed, yet his attitude showed no more or less respect than before. "Surely you didn't think I wouldn't notice, Jillian."

"I'd hoped you'd be too drunk off your arse to care," Captain Kidd corrected. "Now, you still offered passage and I'm still handing over a percentage, so I hope we can keep this in confidence."

"Captain..." Gibbs continued to eye Frederick and Anne with growing worry. "Your debt with... you know who."

Jack's face went through a series of emotions: confusion, fear, and then finally the spark of an idea. He looked over at Gibbs expectantly, as if the two of them should have been on the same page. "Right you are, Mr. Gibbs. Certainly worth more than one soul, wouldn't you say?"

Captain Kidd huffed, crossing her arms. "Alright, you want to barter. What's it going to take to keep you quiet, Jack?"

A sly grin tugged at Jack's lips. But as if second-guessing himself, he shook his head and the look was gone just as quickly. "We'll negotiate later. But I do suggest you keep the princess in disguise. The crew's on edge as it is with Elizabeth—"

"Ah, so that's the wench's name?" Kidd interrupted, almost like a twinge of jealousy was trying to escape. "I just assumed you were starting a floating whorehouse."

"Which certainly explains your presence," Jack countered.

Diego frowned, stepping forward while reaching a hand to the sheath at his hip. Kidd held out a hand, stopping the motion as she eyed Sparrow. Slowly, she nodded her head. "Alright. The princess stays a pirate and it stays between us."

"I'd say you were lucky the bandana didn't come off until after she was stowed away in my quarters... especially since the sea has a way of revealing things," Jack noted.

"And the sailor that rescued her?" Frederick asked, finally breaking his eyes away from his sister. "He didn't notice anything."

"Didn't have time to," Gibbs confirmed. "She was brought here as soon as they surfaced. I'd also say that his rum hasn't been agreeing with him since we left the port."

"He may have once had an ounce of substance," Jack added. "But those days are long behind him. The commodore is no more."

"Commodore?" Diego exclaimed, eyes wide while pulling at his hair. "Mierda! You have a commodore on board?"

"Former Commodore," Jack corrected, waving his hand through the air as if it didn't really matter.

"I think that's something you should have mentioned earlier, Jack," Kidd hissed. "Do you realize what will happen if he finds out?"

"Did I mention he was disgraced?" Jack asked, rhetorically. "It's not a problem."

"And I don't suppose you considered that if he discovered the cargo is the crown prince of England that his standing with the court would improve with his safe return?" Kidd asked.

"We outnumber him... seven to one," Jack threw some odds out into the open. "We're surrounded by leagues of the open sea. There's nowhere for him to go."

Kidd didn't look convinced, yet she did let the matter go. "If anything happens—"

"You'll have my head," Jack interrupted, finishing the statement for her.

"No." She shook her head with a devious chuckle, brandishing the knife she'd hidden so well against his throat before allowing it to trail down his torso and on. "I'll take something else."

Jack cleared his throat, stepping away before the knife could do any damage. "I should think the four of you shouldn't remain in the captain's quarters for much longer. The crew might start to question things."

Kidd sheathed her blade, narrowing her gaze as she motioned with her head for Diego to take the lead. Her first mate grabbed Frederick by the arm, pushing him out the door while Kidd focused on fixing Anne's disguise. The trip overboard had undone the bandana keeping her hair off her neck, not to mention soaked her linens. They'd need something dry before sending the princess back out into the open if they wished to conceal her identity.

Jack and Gibbs followed not long after Diego escorted Frederick out. It was an odd decision to leave another pirate unattended in the captain's quarters, but there was obviously some history between the captains and some twisted form of mutual distrust and respect. Without asking, Kidd found an assortment of clothes lying around that would do the trick.

Anne's nose wrinkled as Kidd handed her the used bundle of clothing. "It reeks of liquor."

"I'd question if they didn't," Kidd retorted. "It could be worse. Now put them on."

"Following your instructions haven't been very beneficial," Anne noted, accepting the clothing while eyeing the garments with suspicion.

"You don't have another choice," Kidd reminded her. "And if you'd followed my instructions, you wouldn't have fallen overboard in the first place. You're lucky you're valuable. Any other sailor would have been left behind."

"Like your crew?"

Kidd was silent. She turned her back to the princess, but the brief second of pain that flashed across her face was unmistakeable. She cared more about her crew than she let on. Yet she didn't let that distract from her own survival. The captain was a mess of contradictions, but Anne was beginning to learn that perhaps it was a defining trait of all pirates.

"Just change quickly and keep out of trouble." Kidd then left the room, closing the door behind her.

And then she was alone. Anne rose from the bed, changing into the clothing she'd been given; however, she didn't leave right away. It wasn't everyday that she was invited inside a captain's quarters. She might not have known how to sail, but that didn't mean she couldn't dream of the sea. Her bedroom window overlooked the bay, and when the sun rose in the morning... to be able to watch the light touch the soul of the world was breathtaking. So why shouldn't she satisfy her curiosity? It was likely she'd be locked in her room for the next decade whenever they returned home, guarded at every waking moment until married off to the next rich, viable, peace-keeping dignitary.

Captain Sparrow's quarters were interesting to say the least, but not in the ways she'd expected. She'd pictured grandiose maps tacked to the walls and shelves of priceless trophies from voyages. There were certainly trinkets that lined the walls, but none of them caught her eye as extremely valuable. There was a barrel of maps stowed away in the far corner of the room—most of which appeared moth-ridden or sea-worn. Mostly it was bottles of rum and the occasional trophy of a young lady brought aboard—neither of which she was looking for. And what was she looking for? Nothing to be found in a den of pirates, that much she finally understood.

Her heart's desire was answers. Answers to the questions of her oath and the destiny of her future. Why was she left on the steps of the palace? Was she truly only meant to produce an heir then waste away as if she'd never existed? Surely if that's all her life was ever meant to be, she wouldn't be in the presence of an alternative. There had to be a reason that she was thrown among those who lived off the bounty of the sea. And that's why she continued to look for answers, scouring over everything deemed by anyone else as nothing.

Just when she considered giving up, she found a hidden compartment within the desk. Inside laid a small box with a leather chord tied to the end. It was heavier than it looked, but well-balanced all the same. As she flipped open the lid, she recognized it as the compass she'd noticed Miss Elizabeth had on her persons earlier in the day. However, it simply refused to point north.

The dial spun and spun until stopping in the direction of the door just as Captain Sparrow entered the room. A look of surprise crossed his face, seeing as how he assumed she would've left by now. Then he noticed the misplaced belongings and the compass in hand.

"And what have you got there, love?"

"I thought it was a compass," Anne replied, eyeing the pirate with suspicion as he drew closer. Her brow twitched with confusion as she watched the arrow follow the captain until he stood beside her. "It doesn't function properly though."

Jack grinned as he glanced down at the direction of the arrow. "It works. It just doesn't point North."

"Then what does it point to?" Anne asked, her curiosity overpowering her skepticism.

"The thing you want most," Jack replied then took a step back. As if proving a point, he moved a hair to the right and the arrow followed. "And plenty find themselves wanting me."

Anne snapped the compass shut then shoved the trinket into the captain's arms before shaking her head as she tried to exit his quarters. "Right, then you might want to have it fixed. You see I hardly know you and I'm not that kind of girl. I'm a lady of the court—"

"That's what they all say," Jack countered, following at a distance.

Anne scoffed. "I ran away from my own wedding and certainly not to fall into the arms of a pirate. Good day, Mr. Sparrow."

Jack's coy look faltered. "Actually it's Captain—"

She stopped listening. Once she reached the door, she quickly threw it open; however, as she reached behind her to close the distance between herself and the captain by shutting the door.  She lost her balance with the shift of the seas, and practically fell backward down the steps leading up to the helm. Thankfully, a pair of arms were thrust beneath hers, catching her before disaster should strike twice.

"I suggest finding your sea legs. I believe this is the second time I've caught you today."

Anne's eyes drifted up and her gaze softened as she met his. The hue of his eyes shifted in the lighting, looking green one moment and a golden brown the next. His dark hair was tied back by a tattered blue ribbon, matching the color of his worn jacket. And that's when she recognized him: he was the man who'd been thrown into the pigs sty when she'd arrived at Tortuga.

"You rescued me?" she asked.

He cleared his throat, lifting her back onto her own two feet. It was clear she'd made him uncomfortable, and that's when she remembered she was meant to be a guy. She cleared her own throat and straightened, putting on a face that would hopefully negate the previously soft moment.

"Thank you," she said. However, she couldn't hide her genuine appreciation. "I owe you my life, Mr. ..."

"Norrington," He introduced himself. "James Norrington."

"Anne—Andrew," she quickly corrected herself. "I'm Andrew."

"Just Andrew?" he questioned, although it was clear he wasn't entirely interested in the conversation as his gaze had drifted toward the rails below where Miss Elizabeth conversed with Captain Kidd.

"Nothing else to claim as my own," she replied. She paused, tempted to let him stare while she returned to the view of the crow's nest, but then she thought better of that decision since it had been the reason for her fall. "What made you dive overboard? You often save the life of a stranger?"

"Hmm?" Norrington asked, turning his head back to the present conversation. Then he nodded his head as he processed what had been asked. "Just an old habit of a man who no longer exists."

"You were a Commodore, right?" Anne asked, recalling the conversation within the captain's quarters. Lord Beckett she'd personally met as he'd brought trade to the courts, but Commodore Norrington had only ever been a name uttered through the halls. A man responsible for the capture and hanging of numerous thieves and outlaws. It had been said he was purifying the refuse of the sea. His brow furrowed as he looked around, questioning how she'd gotten ahold of said information. She quickly added on to her previous question. "Word travels quickly... you were sort of a legend."

"And now a dying whisper." Norrington' jaw clenched. "Reduced to the low-life I once hung by a noose. Poetic Justice or cruel irony?"

"Perhaps fate has entwined our paths," Anne suggested, then corrected her statement after hearing how it sounded outside of her own head. "Who else would've dragged me from the sea?"

"It's not like I had anything to lose," Norrington admitted. "Had the circumstances been different, I doubt even I would've played the fool."

It was harsh, but Anne could see the hidden pain in his eyes. She reached out and touched his arms, pulling his focus on to her. "Well, I'm glad there was an ounce of the Commodore's chivalry that survived."

"Chivalry?"

She took dropped her hands down to her side then cleared her throat. "Chivalry? Did I say chivalry? The word I meant was bravery. Not the finest education this mind's had, but it's done me well."

"Right..." Norrington's brow lifted as he eyes her with suspicion and unease. "I'll be off. I suggest you find your sea legs before you find yourself taking another unexpected swim."

"Thanks..." her voice lingered as he turned his back. However, there was a brief moment where he hesitated and she noticed.

Slowly, he looked back over his shoulder. "You're not a pirate."

It wasn't a question, but an observation. There was no prejudice, only confusion. Anne nodded her head, agreeing with the statement as she sought a believable excuse that wouldn't offer a lens to see through her disguise.

"Merely a simple soul with poor luck, much like yourself," Anne replied.

"Must be pretty poor luck to find yourself here of all places," Norrington said, gesturing to the Pearl.

"I don't mind it so much," Anne said while looking around. "There's freedom on the sea."

"Or a brazen lie," Norrington countered. "Beware the chains that will take you under."

"They cannot be any worse than the chains that I've narrowly escaped," Anne replied, meeting his gaze once more. There was a puzzled look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure her out. It was entertaining, watching the gears wind 'round his mind, but she understood the dangers of letting him think. So, she saluted, turned on her heels, and descended the stairs to meet with Frederick.

True, she could've just told the commodore everything. Her brother wouldn't have hesitated, claiming that all their problems were solved. But she understood what was truly at stake. Freedom. It was selfish—there was no denying that the decision was made purely for her own benefit—but this was her chance to see the world before the lock on her golden cage was clamped shut for the rest of eternity. Fate had taken her to the sea, and so the sea she would ride to the end of the world.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞| It's been awhile, but I'm finally updating this book with another chapter—and revamping some of the graphics. This chapter marks the halfway point of the first act and there's certainly so much more in store to come. Hopefully you've found this enjoyable and don't be afraid to let me know with a comment and a vote. Thanks for reading!