𝐁𝛐𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 | Nikolai Lantsov

12| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚

Amora didn’t come out of her room for the rest of the evening. Confusion and heartbreak swirled in her chest like a tempest, churning memories of laughter and stolen moments into a bitter tide. She lay in her hammock, the soft sway not soothing her but instead amplifying the ache in her heart. Around her, the crew of the Pride of Ravka filled the air with laughter and chatter, teasing one another over dinner. Yet, for Amora, the festivity felt like a mockery of her plight—a stark reminder that even amidst the chaos of their world, she felt utterly alone.

The captain’s words echoed in her mind, cutting deeper than the sharpest blade. “Last night was a mistake.” His voice resonated with authority, yet it was laced with something darker—an undeniable truth wrapped in layers of diplomacy and unvoiced intentions. How could he say that after the night they shared? How could he cast aside what they had almost become?

Footsteps approached, and she rolled over, pressing her face into the worn fabric of her hammock, desperate to escape the reality waiting outside. The door creaked open, allowing a sliver of light to pour in. She recognized Toyla’s easy gait, a sound that usually brought her comfort. He crouched beside her, concern etched across his features.

“Amora, you’ve got to eat something,” he insisted, his tone a playful mix of authority and friendship.

She groaned, turning to face him, and the sight of her reflection in the small mirror confirmed her worst fears: puffy eyes, flushed cheeks, and hopeless disarray. “I missed home,” she replied, voice strained, but deep down, she knew Toyla wouldn’t believe it.

Toyla pulled back slightly, raising an eyebrow. “You think I’m that gullible? Come on, Amora. You’ve seen worse things than a fish face.” He flashed a mischievous grin, but Amora could see the concern lurking behind his bravado.

“It’s not just about food, Toyla. It’s about…” she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, “…what I thought I was building with him.”

“Captain Lantsov?” he asked, tilting his head in a way that made her heart flutter. “Amora, he’s just a—”

“No,” she interrupted, taking a deep breath to quell the rising tide of emotions. “He’s not just a captain. He… he’s special. I thought he understood me.”

As soon as the confession left her lips, Toyla’s expression shifted. “Ah, the allure of a privateer. Dangerous, charming… and untouchable. You’re not going to fall for some helpless romantic fantasy, are you?”

“It's not a fantasy! He… he was real with me. Why does it feel like I’m just a fleeting moment in his grand adventure?”

Toyla placed a comforting hand over hers. “Amora, you’re a force of nature. Don’t let anyone make you feel small. The captain may play the role of daring prince, but your heart is your own. Don’t forget that.”

His words warmed her spirit; she was reminded of the bonds they had forged, not just as comrades but as friends navigating the treacherous waters of Ketterdam. The streets had forged them, honing their instincts and their wit.

“Besides,” Toyla continued, a smirk creeping onto his face, “there’s more than just Nik—that’s what I call him. You always got me, right? I'll always have your back.”

With a small chuckle, Amora found her spirits lifting, even if just a little. “And Tamar, too. I suppose I live for the chaos we create together.”

Toyla grinned wider. “Exactly! Now, let’s get something to eat before some fish face gets sent after you.”

“Okay, fine,” she relented, already feeling the heaviness around her heart lighten. Toyla helped her to her feet, offering a steadying hand, and together they ventured out of her room, the scent of salt and roasted fish filling the air.

As they joined the crew, Amora’s eyes scanned the table for Nikolai. His blond hair caught the dim light, and for a moment, the chaos surrounding her faded. He was laughing, a genuine sound that sent a flutter through her stomach. She felt a rush of warmth, mingled with the bitter pang of her previous disappointment.

But even as they bantered back and forth, Amora felt a weight pressing on her chest with the truth she held inside. Like a shadow on her heart, it loomed larger with each moment they spent together. Was it the thrill of adventure, or something deeper that drew her toward Nikolai?

As the evening wore on and stories filled the air, something shifted in her heart. Maybe it wasn’t just about what she wanted or who he was. Maybe it was about the freedom their adventures promised, the uncertainty of the horizon, and the bonds they forged in the process.

Maybe the weight of secrets could be lighter when shared, unraveling slowly in the warmth of newfound friendships and fleeting glances across the table.

And as she looked across at Nikolai, laughter mixing with the salt-kissed air, she felt the first stirrings of hope within her heart, daring to believe that perhaps her wild spirit had just begun to soar.

⎯⎯ ୨•୧ ⎯⎯