Catherine narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the face on the deck—but before the figure could fully come into focus, movement from the side of the ship caught her attention.

Sebastian.

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t slow down.

In a few swift, fluid motions, he scaled the side of the vessel, his body moving with a precision that spoke of training far beyond what most would expect. It wasn’t reckless, it only looked that way. There was control in the way he gripped, in the way he propelled himself upward, as though this was something his body remembered even if his mind did not.

Within seconds, he was on the deck. The next moment, one single punch, and the man on the deck fell like a cut pole.

Catherine’s breath caught, her gaze sharpening as she tracked him. "Was that a gun?" she asked quietly.

She had seen it, a brief glint of dark metal against his back. Subtle, but unmistakable. She had grown up around weapons enough to recognize them without needing a second glance.

Maximilian followed her line of sight, then exhaled softly, unsurprised. "Expected," he murmured.

There was no judgment in his tone.

Only understanding.

Bernice was in danger. For someone like Sebastian, that was reason enough.

"He doesn’t even know what’s waiting for him in there," Catherine said, her voice tightening slightly. "And he just...went in?"

That was the same as their previous life. In the first sign of danger, Sebastian would run off, protecting her from any danger that could get near her. All she had to do was wait in case someone slipped past her loyal knight.

Maximilian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he opened his bag, reaching inside with quiet efficiency.

Catherine’s eyes widened slightly as he pulled out a gun.

"You had that with you?" she asked, a mix of surprise and disbelief threading through her voice. "You were with me the whole time—I didn’t even notice. Do you even have a license?"

Maximilian glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he gave a small, knowing wink.

Realization settled almost immediately.

"Of course you do," Catherine said under her breath, shaking her head faintly. A former warlord, now a historian of warfare... of course, he would not walk unprepared. Of course, he would know weapons of this time too.

"I’m going in," Maximilian said, already moving. "You stay here with Mr. Wesley."

The words were firm, but not dismissive; protective in a way that felt instinctive rather than imposed.

"But—" Catherine reached for him without thinking, her fingers closing around his hand as he turned away.

He stopped. Turned back. "Catherine?" he said softly. There was no argument in his tone. Just a quiet reminder of who he was, and what he could handle.

Her grip loosened slowly.

She knew.

She knew what he had been, what he had survived, the battles he had led when survival itself had been uncertain. Compared to that, this should have been nothing.

And yet... her heart refused to listen. It pounded anyway.

"Should I call the police?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

"Not yet," Maximilian replied.

He talked to Duncan for a few seconds, and then he was gone.

Where Sebastian had climbed with speed, Maximilian moved with efficiency, reaching the deck in fewer motions, his body wasting no energy as he disappeared into the same darkness.

Duncan stepped closer then, positioning himself subtly but deliberately, guiding Catherine to a spot shielded from direct view. It was done without fuss, without drawing attention, but the intent was clear.

To keep her safe.

Catherine glanced at him briefly, a small, quiet smile touching her lips despite everything.

In another life, she would have had to do this herself.

Now...

She wasn’t alone.

She let herself sit, though her gaze never left the ship, her body tense with waiting, every second stretching longer than it should.

"The one Mr. Remington took down was Miss Watson’s brother," Duncan said beside her, his voice low, informative.

Catherine blinked, the words taking a moment to register. "Her brother?"

She turned to him, confusion knitting her brows.

"Her brother kidnapped her?"

The disbelief in Catherine’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried weight—something raw and instinctive, as if the idea itself offended something deep within her.

Duncan gave a small, confirming nod. "That appears to be the case. Mr. Remington received the ransom demand, which suggests the intent was to extract money through him. Your friend’s brother likely knew how much he cares for her."

Catherine stared at him for a moment, trying to reconcile the words with the girl she knew. "Her own brother..." she repeated softly, the phrase sounding wrong even as she said it.

Families could be complicated, she understood that better than most. But this?

This crossed into something else entirely.

Duncan continued, his tone steady, factual. "He has a history. Multiple convictions—larceny, fraud, minor assaults. Each time he’s arrested, his mother arranges bail. From what we’ve gathered... Miss Watson is the one funding it."

Catherine’s hands slowly curled into fists at her sides.

So that was it.

Bernice had been holding everything together, quietly and relentlessly, while being dragged down by the very people who were supposed to protect her. And still, she had shown up every day with that same soft smile, that same unwavering dedication, never letting it show unless someone looked closely enough.

Catherine swallowed, something tightening in her chest.

Even now... Bernice hadn’t run.

Hadn’t cut them off.

She endured.

Inside the ship, the atmosphere was nothing like the stillness outside.

It was chaos—sharp movements, the sound of bodies colliding, restrained grunts, the dull echo of impact against metal walls. Sebastian moved like a man with only one objective, his strikes precise but fueled by something far more volatile than technique alone. Maximilian, in contrast, was controlled, efficient, each movement calculated, leaving no room for unnecessary force.

Between the clashes, Sebastian broke away.

For a single moment, everything else ceased to exist for him. He reached her.

Bernice.

Her body stilled the instant he was close, her breath uneven beneath the cloth that still blinded her. His hands that were usually so careless, so unrestrained, were suddenly careful as he pulled the fabric away, loosening the bindings at her wrists with a gentleness that did not belong in a place like this.

The moment her eyes adjusted and found him... something broke.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, her voice trembling, her fingers clutching at him as if to confirm he was real.