Chapter 383:

Nancy

"What’s the prince’s little navigator doing here?"

I jump and spin around.

She’s on her throne—the high-backed chair at the head of the deck, the one the pirates treat like an altar. Her feet are propped on a stool. The purple parrot perches on the arm of the chair, its beady eyes fixed on me.

Both of them are looking at me.

She has her face resting on her knuckles, one leg crossed over the other knee. She looks amused. Bored. Like I’m a character in a play and she’s watching from the sidelines, waiting for me to do something entertaining.

I swallow.

"I greet the Devil." I bow. Low. Respectful. The way I was taught to bow to nobility, even though this woman is anything but.

The corner of her mouth twitches.

"Oh my." She straightens, just slightly. "How noble."

She motions for me to come closer.

I walk toward her. The crew watches—not obviously, not aggressively, but I feel their eyes on me, tracking my movements, judging me.

I stop a few feet from the throne.

"What may I do for you?" She tilts her head. "Did the prince send you?"

I fidget.

My hands twist in my skirt. My weight shifts from foot to foot. I should have planned this. Rehearsed. Practiced.

But there’s no time for practice.

I steel myself.

It’s now or never.

I look at her.

"I want to make a deal."

She raises an eyebrow.

"A deal?"

"...Yes."

"You don’t sound very sure."

"No!" The word bursts out of me, louder than I intended. "I’m sure. I want to make a deal."

She studies me. Her dark eyes don’t blink.

"You know what it entails, don’t you?"

I clench my fists. My nails dig into my palms.

"I do." My voice is steadier now. "It doesn’t matter."

"Really?" She tilts her head. "Little noble lady such as yourself is willing to cut off a part of your body?"

I tremble.

I can’t help it. The fear is there, cold and sharp, curling in my stomach.

I’ve been thinking about it every night since.

"Yes," I say.

The Devil smiles. It’s not a kind smile.

"What if I don’t want a body part? A finger or a toe is so... common." She waves her hand.

"What if I want you to scar your face? What if I want you to take out an eye? Or maybe your tongue?"

I look at her.

I’m scared out of my wits.

My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking. My breath is shallow.

But I don’t look away.

Last night, I had a dream.

Not a normal dream—the kind that fades when you wake, the kind that leaves you with nothing but vague impressions and fading feelings. This was different. Real. It felt like a memory. Like I’d lived it before.

I dreamed of my life after the prince killed the monster.

We returned safely. I was celebrated—briefly, quietly, before the men took credit for my work. My brothers were angry that I’d left without permission. My father was furious that I’d shamed the family name.

I had to marry His Highness.

I loved him. I did. He was kind, handsome, grateful. But his gratitude didn’t stop him from accepting the accolades. Didn’t stop him from being the hero, the savior, the prince.

No one spoke of me.

Despite his words, despite his efforts, no one believed I was the navigator. They thought I was his mistress. His comfort. His bed warmer.

I hated that life.

The stifling life. The court. The tea parties. The whispers behind my back.

I remember yearning for the sea. Dreaming of it. Craving it. But I could never set foot on a ship again. I was a married woman now. The prince’s wife. The mother of his children.

My place was on land.

That dream...that vision,it might have been nothing. A nightmare. A trick of my mind.

But it felt true.

Those emotions felt real.

The suffocation. The frustration. The slow, quiet death of everything I could have been.

I don’t want that life.

I want more.

I want everything.

"I don’t mind," I say, looking at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She leans back for a moment. Studies me. Then she leans forward again, placing her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on her knuckles. The wind blows through her dark hair, and her eyes—those dark, unreadable eyes scrutinize me.

"Now I’m curious," she says. "What is it that I can do for you that you’re willing to risk anything?"

I swallow.

"So now tell me." Her voice is quiet. Almost gentle.

"What can I do for you?"

The words rise in my throat. I’ve never said them out loud. Never admitted it to anyone—not to my father, not to my brothers, not even to myself in the quiet of the night.

But here, on this ship, with this woman who sees through everything—

"I want to be the greatest navigator in the world."

The words hang in the air.

The Devil stares at me.

The parrot tilts its head.

The crew—the ones who were pretending not to listen—have stopped pretending. They watch. They wait.

"The greatest," she repeats.

"Yes."

"In the world."

"Yes."

She leans back. Her eyes never leave my face.

"That’s ambitious," she says.

"I know."

"Do you have the skill?"

"Yes."

"The knowledge?"

"Yes."

"The courage?"

I hesitate.

Courage is not something I’ve ever been known for. I’m quiet. I’m careful. I stay in the background, drawing maps and reading stars, letting others take credit for my work.

But courage isn’t about being loud. It’s about being present. About showing up. About refusing to disappear.

"I’m learning," I say. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

The Devil doesn’t respond. She just watches me—those dark eyes, unblinking, unreadable. The wind blows her hair. The parrot tilts its head. The ship creaks beneath us.

I start to lose my courage.

The silence stretches. My confidence crumbles. My shoulders curl inward. My gaze drops to the deck.

What am I doing?

I’m nobody. A navigator who hides behind her uncle’s name. A woman who’s spent her whole life in the background, quiet and careful and forgotten.

And I just told the Devil of the Seas—the most dangerous pirate alive—that I want to be the greatest navigator in the world.

She must think I’m ridiculous.

I feel my face flush. My hands tremble. I want to leave. I want to run back across the plank, hide in my cabin, pretend this conversation never happened.