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Her black brows raise. “Two months? That’s not possible. I know it’s at least four to cross the Pacific heading to New Spain. My husband is close with Prince Ferdinand. He talks about the Spanish galleons crossing all the time.”

“Ah, the Spanish Prince. What a waste of breath that boy is. Figures your husband would fraternize with the likes of him.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she says and Crazy Eyes chuckles in amusement at how bold she is.

“I suppose I didn’t,” I say, grinning at her impudence. “What if I were to tell you that there’s magic up in these sails. What say you then?”

She looks up at the sails billowing then looks around her, her focus going to the islands we’re passing by. “We are moving awfully fast for a ship. How many knots?”

I’m vaguely impressed at her nautical knowledge, half expecting her to be the sort of woman who would stay below deck for all her travels and never learning a lick of the lingo.

“Ten knots,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “Not even the fastest ship in the royal fleet can go that fast.”

“But you’ve never been on theNightwindbefore.”

“I would have heard about it.”

“There’s very few that have been on board this vessel and live to tell the tale of her speed—or other things. But believe it or not, that’s how fast she goes. We have wind even in the middle of the doldrums. When we cut across the Pacific, we cut straight across. No need to sail up to Japan and across to the colonies when we can go right to New Spain. There’s a chance that we’ll get to Acapulco before we get word from your father-in-law, but no matter, darling. I’m a very patient man.”

She remains skeptical, as she should. You mention magic to any landlubber and they’re quick to dismiss you and label you insane. It’s only the seafaring folk that are more open-minded when you talk of the strange and mystic.

Then something else crosses her face, her expression turning cunning for a moment. But she doesn’t express it with words, leaving me in wonder.

“Bones,” Cruz says, stepping up on to the deck. “You get any sleep?”

“Enough,” I say and turn the princess towards him. “I don’t think she got any, judging by the looks of her. Know of anyone in the crew that may have roughed her up?”

Cruz appraises her as he puts on his hat. “I don’t. Probably her husband, no?”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” I say, and I lead the princess away from the helm as Cruz replaces the bosun for his shift. “Perhaps you would be safer caged in my chambers?”

She blinks at me. “Why do you have a cage in your chambers?”

A good question. “Let’s just say I like to collect beautiful things. You fit the bill, luv. Come now and see.”

I take her down to the main deck and to my quarters at the rear of the ship. Naturally, as befitting a captain, it’s the most spacious room on board, with my bed tucked away to the side and the rest a large library, with shelf upon shelf of books and other curiosities I’ve picked up on my travels. The stained-glass windows run down the entire length of the cabin with a door leading to a balcony, and there’s a large table in the middle for crew meetings or when I feel like drinking alone.

And then there’s the cage in the corner, human-sized.

“I’m sure it’s not as nice as your quarters on the royal ship,” I tell her. “But they do me just fine.”

I let go of her arm and she seems so enthralled by the books and curios I have on the shelves that she’s completely ignoring my collection of weapons to the side. Or maybe that’s what she wants me to think.

“I’ve never seen so many books,” she says breathlessly as she looks around.

“I doubt that. Surely the king and queen have libraries upon libraries in their palaces.”

She gives me a wry look. “Those books don’t count. They’re unreadable.” She slowly walks around, trailing her fingers over the cloth and leather spines. “These are real books. Ones that tell stories, not just someone’s boring lineage.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m glad you’re impressed.”

That makes her features harden. Somehow that look makes her even more beautiful. “I’m only impressed because you’re a pirate,” she says.

“And you think the lot of us are illiterate imbeciles?”

“Yes,” she says.