The Lost Royal

Chapter 5.

The air had changed on the Tempest's Fortune. After the discovery of the medallion, an unspoken awareness seemed to pass between the crew—a sense that their journey had shifted from the familiar rhythm of raids and bounty hunts to something deeper, more uncertain. Whispers of the past and the revelation of Spencer's possible lineage hung in the air, a weight that pressed on each of them in ways they hadn't anticipated.

Amori felt it most of all.

She had taken to spending long hours on the deck, her gaze fixed on the horizon as though it held the answers to the questions that had begun haunting her since she first laid eyes on that medallion. Her loyalty to her nephew was unwavering, rooted in a duty that extended beyond family bonds. She had vowed to protect Spencer, to guide him back to the life he had lost, a life he didn't even remember.

But as she watched G from the corner of her eye, she felt a different, equally undeniable pull—a quiet yearning that was at once painful and exhilarating. She had learned to keep her feelings hidden, burying them beneath her stoic exterior, yet every time G looked her way, every time his hand brushed hers in passing, the facade cracked, if only for a moment.

Today, she found herself alone at the bow, the sea stretching endlessly before her, the sun casting a warm glow over the deck. She had hoped the solitude would bring her some peace, but instead, it only magnified her thoughts, making the silence feel heavier, more oppressive.

"Thinking of running away?" G's voice broke through her thoughts, light and teasing.

She turned, finding him leaning against the railing beside her, his eyes warm and curious. She hadn't heard him approach—a rarity, considering her usual attentiveness—and she wondered if he had noticed the conflict that simmered just beneath her calm demeanor.

"Not running away," she replied, forcing a small smile. "Just... thinking."

G raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving hers. "That makes two of us." He paused, his tone shifting to something gentler, more serious. "You've been different since we found that medallion, Amori. I've noticed. And I think the others have too."

Amori felt a pang of guilt, the weight of her silence pressing down on her. She had always prided herself on being steady, unwavering, but the recent turn of events had shaken her in ways she couldn't ignore. It was as though the discovery of the medallion had pulled her back to the person she had once been—a young girl, filled with dreams and loyalty, but also with burdens that no one could see.

"It's... complicated," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's a lot you don't know about Spencer's past. About my past."

G nodded, his expression understanding. "I don't need to know everything. But whatever it is, Amori, you don't have to carry it alone."

She looked down, her fingers tracing the worn wood of the railing. "It's not that simple. Spencer... he's more than just a commander. He's..." She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. How could she explain the gravity of his heritage, the duty that had been passed down to her to protect him, to return him to his rightful place?

G watched her, his gaze gentle but unyielding. "Amori, you've protected Spencer for as long as I've known you. Whatever this is, you can trust me."

She met his gaze, a strange mix of relief and longing tightening in her chest. Trusting G felt as natural as breathing, yet it terrified her. There was so much at stake, so much she couldn't afford to risk. And then there were her feelings for him—feelings that complicated everything in ways she couldn't begin to unravel.

Before she could respond, Ice's voice rang out from across the deck. "What's this? Captain and our historian having a secret meeting?" He approached with a wide grin, his gaze flicking between them with a mischievous glint.