Chapter 403: Not what we expected
Chapter 403: Not what we expected
Chapter 403:
Caspian
No one responds to her question.
The Devil sighs.
"Oh dear."
She leans back on her throne, fingers tapping on the armrest. The crew shifts uncomfortably.No one knows what to say. No one knows what to do.
"Don’t blame me." Her voice is lighter now, almost playful, but there is an edge beneath it. "Is there anyone capable of being calm after the love of their life has been hurt?"
The temperature drops.
Not metaphorically. Literally.
A chill runs through the air, sharp and sudden, cutting through the warm afternoon sun.
"But I’m a nice person." The Devil smiles. "I won’t hold it against you." She pauses. "It is partially my fault anyway."
I touch my throat. The bandages are clean, but I can still feel the ghost of her claws beneath them. The memory of her golden eyes. The memory of almost dying.
"Well, anyway, this trip has been interesting." The Devil leans back on her throne.
"You did not kill your monster, but don’t worry... the monster certainly will not attack again."
"That monster!" Smith’s voice cracks with rage. "It killed thousands! You cannot expect us to brush it over!"
I reach for him, but it is too late.
The words are already out.
I understand. Seeing the wreckage of Xavier’s ship—the pieces, the skeletons, the proof of what happened here—has broken something in him. He was close to Xavier. Close to the crew. He is angry and grieving and hurting.
But this is dangerous.
The Devil snaps her fingers.
Smith is dragged across the deck.He stumbles. Falls. Is brought to his knees in front of the throne.
The Devil leans forward.
"I am trying to end this cordially." Her voice is low. Quiet. Cold. "What do you suggest I do to my wife? Hmm?"
She stands.
Walks toward Smith.
Her boots make no sound on the wood.
"Should I go into the cabin and cut off her head?"
She crouches in front of him. "Should I bring mywife’s head to you for your vengeance?" She tilts her head.
"Will that make you feel better? Will it bring your dead back to life?"
Smith does not answer.
His hands are shaking.
"It certainly will not," the Devil says. "But do you know what it will do?"
She grabs his jaw. Forces his face up. Forces him to meet her eyes.
"You think she was a monster." Her voice drops. "I will make sure no one from your kingdom ever sets foot on the seas again. I will hunt down everyone you have ever loved. I will show you cruelty and evil far worse than she has ever dreamed."
She releases him.
Stands.
"And then I will get off my ship, and I will burn your kingdom to the ground."
She looks around the deck.
"My wife’s death count,merethousands—will seem like child’s play. Because I will paint the waters, your lands, with blood. So much death that your barren kingdom will never grow another crop. The water will never hold another fish."
The scenery changes.
It is not real. I know it is not real. But I see it anyway—the water turning red, the shores littered with bodies, the sky dark with smoke. Crops withering. Fish floating belly-up. Death.
I walk forward.
My legs are shaking.
I get to my knees.
"Please." I clench my fists. "Forgive him. He did not mean anything."
The Devil looks at me.
Her dark eyes are unreadable.
"Oh, little prince." She sighs. "A prince should not get to his knees so easily."
She waves her hand, and it’s like I imagined everything that happened.
"Besides." She smiles. "It was a joke."
I stare at her.
"Get up, get up." She gestures at the crew. "Today, a feast! And tomorrow, a feast! Tell the chef to get the reserves!"
The crew hesitates.
Then moves.
I stand. My knees are bruised.
I drag Smith to the side, away from the crew, away from the Devil, away from everyone.
"Have you lost your mind?" I grit my teeth, keeping my voice low. "Do you know what you almost did?"
Smith’s face is pale. His hands are still shaking.
"I am sorry, Your Highness." His voice cracks. "I was just angry. It felt unfair."
"Unfair?"
"All of it." He looks at the water, at the debris we collected, at the ghosts of men we could not save.
"Your brother. The crew. The years of suffering. And now she brings the monster onto our ship and expects us to—"
"I know."
I run my fingers through my hair. Exhale.
"I respect you, Smith." I place a hand on his shoulder. "I loved Xavier too."
He looks at me. His eyes are wet.
"But what happened to the man who taught me to always see the bigger picture?" I ask. "The man who said every choice has consequences?"
Smith is quiet.
"That man," I continue, "would not have thrown his...our lives away for vengeance. That man would have thought before he spoke."
"I know."
"Then act like it."
He nods.
I release his shoulder and look at the water.Something moves beneath the surface.
Larissa.
As if summoned by my thoughts, she emerges from the water. Her dark hair is slick against her face. Her blue eyes are bright. There is a mischievous glint in them, a playful pull—as if she wants to drag me under.
Honestly? With everything that has happened, I am tempted.
I merely smile at her.
She waves. Then dives, delving deeper, disappearing beneath the waves.
I watch the ripples fade.
"Well." Someone steps beside me.
Marina. Her red hair is pulled into a high ponytail. Her arms are crossed. Her eyes are on the horizon.
"This was not what we expected, was it?" she says.
I chuckle.
"No. No, it was not."
"On the bright side, the trade route is open again." She shrugs. "Since the monster will not be attacking anymore."
"Yeah."
I lean against the railing.
"When we get to the kingdom, I will give you your gold. Thank you for coming with me."
"About that." She pauses. "It is fine. I will not be docking with you."
I do not remember.
"I wanted to be a respected pirate." She looks forward. "Not just the Pirate King’s daughter. It was not just about the gold."
She raises her hand toward the horizon.
"I can achieve that on The Bunny. Under the Devil."
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