“Did this beach have grass sprouting between the sand grains?” he asks, his voice low and probing.
Damn it. He’s always been a sharp bastard. But I don’t let my composure falter. Instead, I lean into the only advantage I have: hisbeliefs.
“Maybe it did,” I say, voice softening. “Maybe The Lady herself walked by, and all life sprang up to greet her. Maybe I saw her between the thickets at the shore.”
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think he’s about to call my bluff. But then he looks away, his brow furrowed as he knocks three times on the nearest wooden table—an offering to the sea goddess. Cali follows his lead, tapping her knuckles lightly against the wood. When it’s over, he turns back to me, his expression stern.
“Don’t jest about The Lady, girl,” he warns, his voice gravelly. “Pirates have met their end for less.”
“Pirates die because they make mistakes, not because of some goddess’s whims,” I reply coolly, sliding my guns back into their holsters.
“Stop this blasphemy, Gypsy,” he warns. But I can’t let it up. Not before he forgets what Cali has said.
“If she were real, she’d take us down a long time ago,” I mutter, wrinkling my nose at him.
Yes, my father is an intimidating man, but I am a bold one myself. There’s this thirst to irk him inside me that I can’t always explain. I like to abuse it when it suits me.
His jaw tightens. “We have her blessing.”
I roll my eyes. “Is it her blessing, or just our skill and grit? If she’s real, why do we spin lies about meeting the Sea King? Isn’t that blasphemy, too? For all we know, he doesn’t even exist!”
His temper flares visibly, but I know I’ve already steered the conversation where I need it to go. He’s breaking.
He opens his mouth, his thick white beard staying stiff beneath his lips, but no words come out. His silence lingers, and for the briefest moment, I feel a flicker of triumph. My father, the great Silverbeard, rendered speechless by his own daughter. But then his eyes harden again, the storm in them far from dissipating.
“Skill and grit may keep you alive in a tavern brawl,” he finally says, his voice low and menacing. “But out there?” He jerks his chin toward the sea, visible just beyond the tavern’s open balcony. “Out there, it’s not just skill, Gypsy. It’s luck, fate, and the whims of the gods. You don’t disrespect that.”
I let out a quiet breath, feeling the eyes of the crew and patrons on us. There’s no winning with him when it comes to The Lady, but at least I’ve pulled his mind away from my day.
“Yet the Sea King…” I start, cocking a brow.
“Silence!” he hisses. His teeth grit and a deep scowl tugs at his weathered face. I do as he says, thinning my lips and staring at him straight, but after a while, he speaks again himself, a bit softer this time. “All people care about are stories to amuse children or scare off merchants. We give them what they want.”
I bristle. “And the tale about The Lady is just another one of those stories. The difference is, you’ve fallen for this one, too, Father.”
He grunts, the sound deep and menacing, but a tiny crack has appeared in his demeanor. He’s had enough of this conversation. He’s clearly eager to drop the subject. I can feel the weight of his frustration in that single noise, but I don’t let it shake me. Instead, I glance at Cali, her eyes wide, locked on the tension between us.
Cali, like my father, clings to these old sea legends—the ones about The Lady, a goddess said to be the sea itself, powerful enough to swallow the world whole if she chose to. But she’s too superstitious to even breathe a word against her, fearing the wrath of a goddess that may or may not even exist.
She’s stunned.
I seize the moment to brush off Cali’s earlier blunder. “Next time, try not to make things worse, eh?” I mutter, my voice softer now. She raises an eyebrow slightly, but that’s the only reaction I get. No hard feelings—just a silent understanding between us.
Still, the tension between me and Silverbeard simmers. There’s something about these superstitions of his that lights a fire in my veins. Somehow, whenever Cali talks of them, I don’t mind it as much. But whenever it’s him…
Fifty years at sea, and he still can’t tell the difference between myth and truth. Fifty years of blood, sweat and tears, of hard work, of giving his life to the ship and the crew, and he thinks he’s just a pawn in The Lady’s plan.
He’s never laid eyes on any of those monsters he fears. He never saw the goddess. He always kept us all safe through his wit alone.
“Save your anger for the navy, not your old man,” Gibbons chuckles from the table beside me. He’s grinning like he always does, the rum settling into his blood.
“Aye,” I say through a tight smile. But the words don’t cool the heat crawling under my skin, and before I know it, my feet are carrying me away from the crew, down the stairs. I weave through the crowd, pushing past drunken pirates entranced by Swizzle’s wild tales of adventure. His mouth is as big as the Sea King’s supposed treasure, and every word he spews is just another lie to entertain fools who want to believe.
Half of Kaiterra is like that, if not more—they believe in the absurd. The other half takes advantage of it.
I stride toward the bar, keeping my hand close to the pocket of my breeches, the other brushing the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh. One wrong move from anyone in this tavern, and I’ll be ready.
It’s an unlikely scenario, given that this is our turf and our side of the island, but I could never rely on villagers for my safety.
