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Merry laughter filled the night as the Phantom Gale sailed away from the raided harbor town, leaving nothing but chaos in its wake. Another successful pillaging, another royal goose chase, and another ship full of stolen treasure. Everything had gone off without a hitch. Arms laden with cases of booze, sacks jingling with gold, jewelry draped over necks and wrists; just a merry band of fools reveling in their latest plunder.

Now, Casimir sat on the bow of the ship, legs sprawled out, watching the crew below with a proud grin. The rhythmic clack of boots on creaking wooden stairs caught his ear. “Drinkin’ alone, Cas?” Taliyah, raven-haired and sharp-tongued, teased as she settled beside him, offering a fresh mug of ale.

“Did yeh get bored of yer new boy toy, Tal?” He sluggishly snatched the wooden mug, rolling his eyes as he took a sip of the caramel liquid. The burn down his throat was familiar, welcome. With a satisfied sigh, he shot her a sly grin, catching the way her lips twisted into a frown. “I’m just messin’ with yeh, lass. I’m sure this one’ll last.”

As if on cue, the new crewmate eyed Taliyah from the main deck, flashing a cocky grin that sent an uncharacteristic flush to her usually stern face. She huffed, standing up abruptly. “Tch. Next time, yeh can get yer own damn booze, Cas. Try not to trip on a step.”

Fiery lass. The lad’s only gonna be another disappointment. Casimir chuckled to himself, swirling the last of his ale before tossing back the remainder. The night was still young, and despite nearly pitching face-first into the floorboards, he made his way down to the main deck.

He exchanged nods with his crew, flashing a dumb, drunken grin here and there, before descending to the lower deck. The dim orange glow of lanterns flickered against the wooden walls, casting long shadows over the freshly pillaged loot. His gaze skimmed over the plunder, settling on a barrel they’d managed to snag. He moved toward it, boots thudding against the floorboards, until something made him stop dead in his tracks.

Chocolate-brown eyes sharpened, scanning the space despite his intoxicated state. A faint movement beneath a tarp caught his attention. “Oi,” he drawled, words slurred but edged with warning. “Yeh can make this a whole lot easier on both of us if yeh stay still.” Stepping forward, he grabbed a fistful of cloth and yanked it away, only for his grin to falter.

Shit. Shit. Shit. How the hell did a noble, of all people, end up on HIS ship? “Bloody hell. Isaac dragged yer ass here-” Casimir cut himself off, brain scrambling to piece together the events of the night. Then it hit him. The posters of a runaway royal. The bounty on their return. The rumors about some arranged marriage to a perverted old bastard.

Sucking in a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair, the other resting on his hip. His sharp, predatory gaze softened as he took in their desperate expression. Fuck… how am I s’posed to throw ’em out? His voice, usually laced with cold amusement, took on an almost reluctant gentleness. “Yer far from home,” he muttered, eyeing them warily. “Now what made a spoiled brat run all this way?”