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“Second-in-command or weapon ?” she cut him off, her temper showing as the gills on her neck flared.

Esmyra thought of all the power she held within herself, and how the fearsome Cyrus Blackwood would be just as any other ancient, washed-up pirate who sailed the seas. For if it weren’t for her influence to control the tides and the minds of men, he would be nothing— have nothing.

But the realm didn’t know that.

“Esmi…”

His nickname for her had always been her weakness, but she knew its use came at a cost. A trip of guilt for what she had thrown in his face so carelessly.

She let out a huff as her nostrils flared, but her eyes softened when they met his. “Tell me I’m wrong. Look me in my eyes, Father, and tell me I’m not used as a mere tool for your bidding.”

Cyrus was once a man, a human born into the Kingdom of Lephyrin, who quickly made his way from a privateer to no longer being a sword for hire. And then, over nine centuries ago, when the Kingdom of Maerinys sank to the depths, the man was gifted eternal life. But it wasn’t a gift at all.

It was a curse that bound him to the sea, bestowed upon him by the gods for all his wicked deeds.

The captain leaned back in his chair, scratching at his beard. “Esmi, you know why things are the way they are. The reason they always have been and always will be. I cannot set foot on land.”

She lifted a brow as a smirk played across her sharp lips. “You could,” she mocked.

He scoffed and let out a harsh chuckle. “Aye, and what would you have me do?” He stood from his seat and slowly walked toward her.

“Have my lungs mimic as if they’re drowning in the sea?

Have a misty haze plague my eyes, just how it would be beneath the tides?

Or become repulsed at even the mere thought of food, having it only taste like salt and brine? ”

Cyrus towered over her now, grinning as she listened to the reminder of all his curse entailed.

Esmyra had heard this speech countless times throughout the centuries. She was well aware of the reason he never set foot on the realm’s land. But it never deterred her from provoking him whenever he became entirely too irritating.

“All I was saying is that you could—for you would not perish.” She crossed her arms.

He barked out a harsh laugh as he took a step back from her, both not knowing if they should continue to argue or laugh off the disagreement.

“Aye, Esmi. I would only be driven to madness within mere minutes.” Chuckles rumbled from him as he made his way back to his desk, shaking his head.

Esmyra often wondered how remaining aboard The Night Wraith for centuries hadn’t forced him into insanity already.

She always believed herself to be a slave to the depths, but it was her father who truly was.

While she could shift from a mortal form to that of a siren, he remained as he was: heartless, brutal, and trapped .

“Madness aside, will your stubborn ears listen to why we’ve returned? Or do I have to incite obedience?” She winked at him, the world sharpening as her pupils shifted from round to a vertical slit.

“You wouldn’t dare.” The teasing in his tone vanished.

It was the one rule for her aboard his ship—her power was to never be used against him, though it often crossed her mind.

Esmyra lifted a brow as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Fine,” he huffed. “What is it that made you return here so eagerly ?”

She clasped her hands behind her back and stalked over to the desk before hopping on it, sitting atop his maps and weaponry that were strewn across the wood carelessly.

Esmyra combed through every detail she heard, recognizing that her father often refused to sail near any waters in the south, but he hardly ever gave a reason as to why.

She didn’t think it would cause any harm to leave that little tidbit out, knowing he would only care about the riches the king was after.

Her only desire was to prevent the king from claiming the treasure, since he would only exploit it for his own selfish gains.

“King Rowe has his Phoenix sniffing out lost gold,” she said before picking up an apple from his desk and taking a bite. “Rumors claim they’re headed to Anchorage Cove.”

“The Phoenix?!” Her father’s eyes slowly widened as her lips tilted up. “Draevyn Rowe? You’re sure?”

She only gave a curt nod, accompanied by a menacing gleam in her eyes.

“And you want to do what, exactly?” he asked with a raised brow. “Beat them to the gold?”

“Aye.” Esmyra leapt down from the desk and leaned over it, looking him in the eye. “We’re going to rip it from their grasp, and rid the realm of the Phoenix while we’re at it.”

This time, he was the one who smirked. “You are your father’s daughter.” He paused for a moment, his onyx eyes raking over her. “Ready the ship.”

He pulled a dagger from his hip and slammed the blade into the map sprawled across the table, the weapon making its mark exactly where they now intended to sail. “Well, let’s give Lephyrin’s Phoenix a warm welcome to our headquarter port, shall we?” His words dripped with wicked anticipation.

“Aye,” she answered, her grin matching his. “Let’s.”