Lady of the Sea

Ch 35

The Brethren Court sat in tense silence, their eyes glued to the large doors at the far end of the chamber. Murmurs rippled through the room as the doors slowly creaked open, revealing the figure they least expected to see again.

Marina.

Her steps were slow, but steady, as she walked into the chamber, her posture strong despite the pain she was surely hiding. The room fell deathly quiet, the once defiant and unruly pirate lords stunned into stillness. Their last news of her had been dire—whispers that she hovered between life and death, her sacrifice for their cause nearly sealing her fate.

But here she was.

There was a visible ripple of disbelief and awe in their faces. Some of the pirate lords exchanged looks, their eyes wide with shock. A few of them leaned forward, gripping the edges of their seats, as if to get a better view. Others stood slowly, their usual arrogance muted in the face of this unexpected resurrection.

Teague, seated at the head of the table, stood as well, his eyes narrowing with both surprise and a strange sort of respect. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath, but his words carried through the chamber like thunder.

It was clear, in their eyes, she had done something none of them could—facing death itself and returning to tell the tale. A quiet sense of worship hung in the air, not just out of respect for her sacrifice but out of fear and awe at her resilience.

For the first time, the Brethren Court—the most ruthless pirates across the seven seas—showed signs of humility.

Barbossa gave a slow, deliberate nod, his voice gravelly and full of weight. "Seems ye've cheated death, lass. Again."

A murmur of agreement swept through the room. Every eye remained on Marina, and it was clear now—she had earned their respect, not just as a woman but as a force to be reckoned with among them.

Jack stood at the back of the room, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, trying to maintain his usual nonchalance. But the moment Marina walked through the doors, his composure faltered.

His dark eyes widened, just slightly, as he took in the sight of her. She was walking—albeit slowly—but walking nonetheless. The last time he had seen her, she was barely conscious, bloodied, with her future hanging by a thread. His throat tightened, but he swallowed it down, unwilling to let any of the pirate lords see his surprise.

For a few moments, Jack just stared, his fingers tapping lightly against the hilt of his sword. A strange mix of emotions churned inside him—relief, disbelief, and something else he couldn't quite place. But he was careful to keep it all masked beneath his usual smirk.

As the Brethren Court murmured in awe, Jack's gaze never left Marina. He felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he'd never admit it aloud. Her return was nothing short of a miracle, and Jack, despite all his swagger, had half-prepared himself to never see her again.

But she was here. Alive. Strong.

Finally, he pushed off the wall and took a step forward, his lips quirking into a crooked grin, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper. "You know, love," he called out in that familiar, teasing tone, "you do have a flair for dramatic entrances. Almost as good as mine."

Jack couldn't help but admire her in that moment, though he masked it with a lazy smirk. His gaze, however, drifted downward, taking in her striking new attire. It was bold, revealing more than he was used to seeing her wear, and it made her presence all the more commanding. But as his eyes traveled lower, they caught sight of the long slit in her skirt. There, peeking out from beneath the fabric, were the bandages covering her wounds.

The smirk on his lips faltered.

The sight of that pulled him sharply back to reality. His mind flashed back to the blood, the chaos, and the fear he rarely allowed himself to feel.

Jack's hand instinctively twitched at his side, wanting to reach out, but he shoved it back into his pocket. The weight of what she had sacrificed hit him hard, and he realized with a sinking feeling that despite the teasing and the bravado, he cared about her far more than he'd been willing to admit.

His eyes hardened slightly, the smile now fully gone from his face. He locked his gaze with hers again, his voice quieter this time. "Shouldn't be walking on those legs yet, love."

It wasn't a command, just a statement laced with concern he couldn't quite shake.

Marina's heart tightened in her chest from seeing Jack again, but she chose to ignore the comment and focused on the matter at hand. With a determined look, she stepped forward and addressed the group. "What's the plan? We don't have time to waste."

"Right," Barbossa began, "The situation is critical, it's been almost three weeks since Morgan set sail to West Africa. He should be on his way back now."

Teague nodded in agreement. "We'll be setting up patrols and strengthening our position. We need every hand on deck."

Marina's eyes scanned the horizon, her expression intense and focused. "This isn't enough," she said, her voice carrying a sharp edge. "We can't just sit here and wait for Morgan to attack us. If we stay here, we'll be sitting ducks. We need to take the fight to him," Marina continued, her gaze unwavering. "We need to have someone outside of Singapore, attacking Morgan from behind or creating a diversion. Otherwise, we're leaving ourselves wide open to an attack."

As Marina's plan unfolded, Teague spoke up with a grimace. "It's a good idea, but it's practically suicidal. We don't know how many men Morgan has or how powerful his forces are. It's too dangerous."

Marina's eyes flashed with determination. "It's not about how many men they have. We just need one or two ships of good fighters. We can't just wait around for Morgan to come to us. We need to act."

Barbossa considered her words carefully, then nodded slowly. "She's got a point. If we can't hold him off here, taking the fight to him might be our only option."

"I'll lead the attack," Marina declared, her voice resolute.