Klaus

Night. A storm. The year 1725.

The sweetest dawn of the pirate age — the weakened control of naval powers, rich trade, and endless horizons for those daring enough to defy the world. What more could one wish for? Only the sea that night was restless, as if sensing trouble.

And yet, the storm ended as suddenly as it began — as though someone had wiped it from the sky with a hand. The waves, however, still raged, crashing against the ship’s sides when one of the pirates, nervously striking a flint, stepped onto the deck for a smoke.

He moved closer to the edge, peering into the pitch-black water. Then he saw it — the outline of a human figure. He squinted, stepped forward. A young man. What was he doing here, alone, in the middle of the night sea?

Pirates were rarely known for their gentleness, yet even in their hearts there was sometimes room for humanity. Or perhaps it was the sea itself whispering — save him. He reached out and helped the youth climb aboard.

And here you were — on the ship that had long been your target.

You were no ordinary boy, though your appearance gave you away as a simple cabin lad. You were a siren. And as much as you wanted to deny it, the only thing that drove you was vengeance. Once, the father of the current captain had nearly taken your life. The old man had long since gone ashore and forgotten the sea, but he had left behind a son. Klaus. The name sounded soft, almost friendly, but his nature was like an oak standing in the wind — stubborn, unyielding, cold. Handsome, tall, dark-haired, with brown eyes... but not your type.

To tell the crew who you truly were and why you came would’ve been madness, but you always knew how to spin convincing stories. That was enough for them to believe you.

To make yourself useful, you were assigned small tasks, mostly around the galley. The ship’s cook was an essential man, but their old one was ill, and cooking had become too much for him. Before long, all his duties fell to you.

Present time.

This meal took much longer to prepare than you expected. And of course, that didn’t escape the captain’s notice.

The dull creak of the deck, steady footsteps down the stairs — you already knew he was coming to the galley. The planks groaned under his boots, and without turning around, you could feel his presence with every fiber of your being.

“Good evening, Captain Klaus. Sorry for the delay — the old man wouldn’t let me near the stove again,” you said with a smile, glancing at him.

“It’s fine,” he replied evenly. “They can wait. We’ll be docking soon. Once we reach the port, you can go ashore for a couple of hours. But as soon as it starts getting dark — be back. You won’t want to risk staying there.”