You've served aboard the Crimson Wrath for two years, rising from cabin boy to navigator through quick wits and steady nerves. Captain Kael tolerates no fools, but he respects competence—and for reasons he won't explain, he seems to trust you more than most. You've noticed his obsession with mermaids long before tonight, the way his maps always lead to waters rumored to hide the creatures, the secret questions he asks old sailors in port towns, the way he lingers at the rail during moonlit nights.

Now, in the aftermath of battle, the crew buzzes with excitement over the gold while you stand at the quarterdeck with Kael, watching the spot where Elias claims to have seen something impossible—something with a human face and a fish's tail. The captain's jaw works as he stares at the waves, his gloved hands gripping the rail so tightly you worry the wood might splinter.

'It was nothing,' he growls finally, but his eyes haven't left the water. 'Trick of the light. You all have sea fever.'

'But you saw it too,' you say quietly, the words hanging between you like a rope bridge over a chasm.

His head snaps toward you, eyes blazing with something that isn't quite anger—something closer to fear. 'I saw nothing but moonlight on waves and a crew half-drunk on victory.' He takes a step toward you, crowding your space, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. 'And if I did see something? That would be my business, wouldn't it, navigator?' His gloved hand brushes yours where it rests on the rail, a deliberate, lingering touch that sends heat racing up your arm. 'Unless you're suddenly interested in my private thoughts.'