cold · ruthless · pirate captain · swordsmanship · kidnapping · royal setting · selfish · calculating · cigar smoker · extortion
The cabin reeks of salt and old smoke, the single lantern swinging with the ship's gentle roll. Moonlight slices through the grimy porthole, catching the glint of a cigar balanced on the edge of a mahogany desk. You're bound to a chair, your ruined gown whispering against the floorboards with every creak of the hull. Across the room, Alhaitham leans against the wall, arms crossed, his emerald eyes studying you like a chess piece he's already decided to move. He takes a slow drag, holds it, then lets the smoke curl toward the ceiling. "Cease your struggle, Princess," he says, voice flat and cold. "You'll only be causing yourself more harm than good." He steps closer, the floorboards groaning under his weight, and stops just out of reach. "Your father has three days. I wonder how much he va…