𝐁𝛐𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 | Nikolai Lantsov

6 | 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝛐𝛐𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚

I woke up in the middle of the night, the ship rocking gently beneath me. The distant sound of waves crashing against the hull beckoned me out of my hammock. I decided to stretch my legs and take a short walk, exploring a bit more of this metal contraption I had been thrust into. It was all new to me-this ship, this world, and most importantly, the elusive man who led our ragtag crew.

Under the pale glow of the moon, I climbed out and tiptoed across the creaking floorboards of the main deck. The stars were bright, scattered like diamonds in a velvet sky, and the moon cast silvery beams that danced across the water-a breathtaking sight that felt almost surreal.

I snuck around the hallway, opening every door silently. Storage room, laundry room, an empty room? A workroom, I think? A bedroom, another bedroom-ANOTHER bedroom. Saints, why do I even have to sleep in a hammock when this man has so many rooms? I took a deep breath; I couldn't help but be frustrated.

Finally, at the end of a shadowy hallway, I noticed a door slightly ajar. Curiosity prickled my skin as I pushed it open and stepped into the dimly lit room. It was surprisingly neat, with a desk cluttered with papers, books stacked haphazardly, and a few personal trinkets that reflected a life somewhere between chaos and responsibility.

I walked closer to the desk, my heart quickening as I scanned the papers. Most were illegible scrawls-contracts, maps, ship logs-but one letter caught my eye. It had a royal seal, embossed in gold, and as my fingers brushed over it, I felt a strange sense of foreboding.

"Nikolai Lantsov?" I whispered to myself, the name rolling off my tongue like a secret I had unwittingly discovered. Prince Nikolai Lantsov. I read the name a thousand times, each time it felt like an echo of disbelief growing louder in my mind. Did he steal this? Did it get sent to the wrong address? Was he really a prince?

Just then, I was startled by a soft but clear sound, akin to a person clearing their throat. I whirled around, my heart racing against my ribs. Standing there, framed in the doorway, was Sturmhond-the charming, infuriating captain of the ship with blue eyes that sparkled like the sea and blond hair tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed.

"What are you doing in here, Amora?" he asked, his tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness that indicated he wasn't entirely pleased.

I straightened, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just... inspecting your quarters, Captain," I replied, tossing my hair over my shoulder, hoping the bravado would mask the slight tremor in my voice. "This room is a mess. Shouldn't a prince keep things more... organized?"

His brow quirked upwards in surprise, yet a playful smile tugged at his lips. "Ah, but this 'prince' is more of a privateer at heart. Organization is for landlubbers." He stepped into the room, his presence filling the space with a palpable energy that always made my breath hitch.

"Pirate? Is that what you call it?" I replied sarcastically, crossing my arms. "Last I checked, your ship flew no flag."

"Privateer" he corrected "Flag or no flag, I have to maintain appearances," Sturmhond said, glancing at the letters scattered across the desk. He moved closer, and I could see the flicker of amusement in his eyes as he read a few sentences. "So you've learned my little secret."

"So that's why you're so good at charming the grisha and the sailors alike. A prince, hiding in plain sight," I mused, more impressed than I wanted to admit.

"Well, it's not entirely a secret; I mean, most of the crew knows I'm not just a simple captain. They've just been too busy with their own lives to care." He picked up one of the papers, his finger tracing the ink as he continued. "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

I shook my head, my heart racing at the thought of revealing this newfound knowledge. "Your secret is safe with me, Sturmhond. But... why hide it? You could unite people, bring them hope!"

"And hope is a dangerous thing," he said, his voice dropping low, almost vulnerable. "They'd expect things of me that I'm not ready to give. Besides, there are those who would use a title like mine against me."

Before I could ponder that further, a soft knock on the door interrupted the moment. Tamar and Toyla, the Shu twins, stepped into the room, their expressions an odd mixture of concern and mischief.

"Did we interrupt something?" Tamar asked, her short hair catching the moonlight.

"Not at all," Sturmhond dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Just enlightening Amora on the trials and tribulations of being a prince."

"Oh, we're all ears," Toyla said, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he strode forward with his twin swords hanging on his back.

"Actually," I interjected with a grin, "he was just explaining why he gives us hammocks instead of proper beds! Apparently, we're unworthy of royal furnishings."

A shared laughter erupted in the room, dissolving the tension and leaving an ease in the air I didn't expect to feel again.

But beneath the humor and camaraderie, a darker undercurrent lingered - a world of secrets, royal rebels, and hidden power that could shatter our fragile peace. I exchanged glances with Sturmhond, the weight of his secrets tying us together in an unspoken bond, something dangerous yet exhilarating, much like the voyage on which we were engaged.

And as the ship sailed through the darkness, I realized that I wasn't merely fleeing Ketterdam anymore. I was stepping into a realm filled with treachery, adventure, and perhaps a budding love for a man I had come to admire-not just as Sturmhond, but for the prince he truly was.

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