I had waited years for this moment, and when it finally arrived, something felt wrong. Deeply wrong. As though I were meant to be somewhere else—anywhere other than seated upon a throne, watching servants labor on my behalf. I could not bear to look at them. My head ached, my thoughts blurred, and an uneasy truth settled in my chest: something was not as it should be.

Two weeks earlier…

“Miss Catrina! I have news,” Samantha exclaimed as she helped me dress. “I think you’re finally ready to be a queen!”

We were preparing for a formal dinner at Larsond Castle, the home of my betrothed. Samantha had been assisting with my lessons alongside Lady Vesper—undoubtedly the harshest tutor imaginable. Yet as a princess, and soon a queen, I was never permitted to voice such thoughts. My mother had taught me that kindness must be shown even to those who offer none in return.

My mother was a pillar of our country, always searching for better ways to serve our people. My parents were growing older, and ruling as king and queen had become increasingly dangerous at their age. They decided that within a few years, the crown would pass to me. To prepare, they sent me away by ship to study under Lady Vesper.

At first, I was hopeful—until I realized I would not be allowed to visit my family.

Most of my days were spent nursing bruised hands, the result of Lady Vesper’s switch. She believed me unworthy of the crown, accusing me of being rude, childish, and undeserving of queenship. Still, I forgave her every day. And now, at last, I was returning home.

My grandparents would be there, along with my aunts, uncles, cousins, and the entire court of Larsond Castle.

That evening, Samantha and I attended dinner at the castle, where I met my betrothed for the first time. He was far more handsome than I had imagined—his eyes a striking blue, his hair brown with soft blond highlights, and his manner genuinely kind. We could hardly look away from one another.

After dinner, he approached me, and we spoke at length. He told me how much he enjoyed games and how eager he was to meet my family. He even mentioned staying several days after my crowning so we could better know one another. Hours passed unnoticed—until Lady Vesper arrived.

Without warning, she seized my arm and dragged me away, not even allowing me to bid farewell to my future parents-in-law.

Outside, Samantha was forced to walk beside the carriage Lady Vesper had brought—a massive vehicle large enough to hold ten people. When I protested, Lady Vesper coldly replied, “Samantha has not earned the right to sit with us. And if I may be honest, I do not believe you have either.”

I longed to snap back, but I knew that doing so would only bring deep embarrassment upon my family. Instead, I turned away, unable—and unwilling—to look at her. Upon our return to Lady Vesper’s estate, I guided my weakened friend to her chambers. Samantha’s feet were bleeding, and I summoned another maid to tend to her before retiring to my own room.

When I entered my chambers, Lady Vesper was perched on the very edge of my bed, as though touching anything that belonged to me disgusted her.

“Good evening, Lady Vesper. May I assist you?” I asked, deliberately avoiding her gaze.

She grunted and rose, striding toward me with her switch clenched tightly in her hand.

“Where is your servant?” she snapped. “She should be with you!”

“You forced her to walk for an hour without rest,” I replied evenly. “Her feet are bleeding. Is it truly unacceptable for your future queen to order her maid to seek healing?”

Lady Vesper opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“You may have passed your trials and earned scores impressive enough to please your parents and secure your return,” she said coldly, “but I would not be proud. I would not even wish to see you. If you were my daughter—”

“If you were my mother,” I cut in sharply, “I would have left with joy. I doubt I would ever wish to see you again.”

Lady Vesper twitched. Her mouth opened and closed, as though words pressed against her tongue yet refused to emerge.

“Miss Catrina—”

“You may address me as Your Highness, Vesper,” I snapped.

She stiffened, then corrected herself. “Your Highness. Your ship will be prepared to depart at twelve tomorrow. Good night.”

With that, she stormed out of the room. I held my head high until the door slammed shut—only then did my shoulders sag as the weight of the moment finally settled in.

I got dressed by myself for the first time in two years. Samantha had been helping me since my arrival. It felt strange not to have her share stories about her life before meeting Lady Vesper, as they were quite intriguing.

I lay in bed for hours unable to sleep, too rowdy and excited. I'd finally see my parents. I finally dozed off, and morning arrived quickly. Sunlight peeked through my window curtain. I jumped out of bed, and Samantha was waiting for me. She smiled, but deep down, I knew she was hurting. "Catrina, I can't begin to express how much I've enjoyed having someone close to my age around. You've become one of my best friends. It's been a pleasure, your highness." She curtsied, and I nodded. Tears welled in our eyes as we embraced in a hug.

Lady Vesper and I rode to the docks, where I would soon board the enormous ship anchored there. It smelled of rotten fish and eggs, and while Lady Vesper covered her mouth and nose, I reveled in the open air. Being confined to a stuffy mansion had been quite tiresome. As I boarded, Lady Vesper waved goodbye and turned to leave. Then, the ship began to move. A sign that I was finally going home!

The sea made me feel unwell. The constant rocking was unbearable. Despite my stomach's protests, I had a desire to explore. Being confined on a small ship for six days would undoubtedly be challenging. Men scurried about the deck, engaged in card games, while their coarse language permeated the atmosphere, mingling with the odor of older men smoking pipes. It was a dreadful combination, in my opinion. As the day progressed, I encountered a few genuinely kind individuals who taught me how to tie a knot, which nearly caused me to tumble off the ship. The captain's name is Laureen. He instructed me on how to send someone off the plank and how to load a cannon, albeit only for emergencies. Additionally, his son Atticus showed me where everything was located, assisted me up the steep stairs, and was quite handsome.

Nights were the most challenging. I could hear the men snoring from my cabin, and the rocking of the boat was not as calming as I had been led to believe. The wind howled, and I could have sworn I heard screams, but the captain's wife assured me it was merely the sound of the wind reverberating off the water. I couldn't help but tremble; she might be deceiving me. This could potentially be a slave ship! How did I end up in this situation? I got out of bed, donned my robe, and hurried out onto the deck. The wind was fierce. My hairpin flew from my hair, causing my hair to unravel from its nighttime braid. The darkness obscured my vision, but I could have sworn I saw a figure on the captain's deck. Naturally, with my foolish mind, I called out, "Hello, Captain?" The figure approached me, and I moved toward it. It turned out to be the captain's son, Atticus.

"Greetings, your highness. What brings you out at this hour?" he inquired, his tone gentle."I could not find rest. The boat was swaying excessively, and it is making me feel unwell," he said as he lit a lamp and turned to face me. I was unprepared for anyone to be present, so I remained in my night attire. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling embarrassed about my clothing. He merely smiled, and I then realized he too was dressed in his night clothes."What has led you to this place, Atticus?" I asked, moving closer to the railing to observe the waves."I too was unable to sleep. My bunk is situated beneath the individual who has a habit of wetting himself every night," he chuckled, and I joined in his laughter. He placed his hand over mine. I glanced up at him; he was gazing intently at me.

"Although I have only known you for a few days, Catrina, my feelings for you have deepened," he murmured, stepping closer until the faint glow of the lamp painted warm light across his features. His breath mingled with mine, the space between us shrinking to a whisper.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The waves rocked the ship in a slow, gentle rhythm, as if urging us forward. His hand tightened around mine, steady and warm, grounding me against the cool night air.

"Atticus…" I breathed, though I wasn’t sure if it was a question or a confession.

He lifted his free hand, brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek with a touch so careful it made my chest ache. His fingers lingered, tracing the line of my jaw as though memorizing it. Then he leaned in—slowly, deliberately—giving me every chance to pull away. I didn’t.

When his lips finally met mine, the kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, as though he feared the moment might shatter if he pressed too firmly. But as I leaned into him, his other hand rose to cradle the back of my neck, deepening the kiss with a tenderness that made the world around us fall utterly silent.