Page 5 of A Captain So Callous and Cruel

And fuck.

Regardless of our station, of our marriage vows and honor. These are the ghosts that haunt us later in life. Or always, in my case.

“The prisoners are in good health,” Bridger continues, thoughtfully. “Some of them are extraordinarily formidable. A few have been selected for the grunt crew. We’ll see if they earn their keep, or walk the plank.”

I nod. “Indeed.”

I watch him as he scribbles away at the journal, filling it with numbers. My jaw tightens as I reflect on today’s purchases. There’s a lot that won’t make it to Goldspince, I surmise.

For another dark secret I carry is that I am a slaver.

The men I bought will be sold at premium cost, and my pockets will be full for it. Half the men I have as crew will either be killed or sold to another merchant vessel, the truth of our activities either dying with them or remaining forever buried.

Oftentimes a pristine kingdom that prides itself on free will and autonomy is devoured by corruption from deep within, but it has not stained my kingdom’s name, and it has been this way as long as I can remember. It must carry on.

After Bridger is done, I excuse him.

I journal for a little while, trying to keep today’s activities fresh in my mind, but then I begin to write about what has been truly on my mind.

Red hair like glowing fire. I have not seen such a color in all my years. Usually dull or copper red. Never that vibrant. Steely eyes and full lips. She looked directly at me when I demanded it. I detected defiance in her as our eyes locked. She is unusual, and I am riveted by it.

I pause my writing, frowning now because she was too clean, wasn’t she?

Where did she come from? She couldn’t be from Morda. If she had been, she’d have been spoiled, and I have not sent the doctor yet to look her over to know whether her virginity is intact.

She’d fetch a pretty penny if she is.

But then again, I would want her for myself.

Don’t I already?

“Dinner,” I demand, finished with my journaling. My curiosity has been aroused, and I will not be able to extinguish it until I look upon her face and understand her predicament.

“The girl,” I add tightly to the crewman that cleans around me. “Deliver her and then leave us be.”

“Yes, Captain,” he says.

Putting the journal away, I quickly tidy myself. I want to be presentable, though I’m unsure why it weighs on me that I want to please her. Or at least appear desirable.

It could be my vanity, or that for the first time in recent memory, I want to attain a unique possession and I need to win her obedience as well. I don’t want sniveling from her straightaway.

I don’t aim to break my toy without learning what makes it tick first.

Wearing my finest black tunic with the leather trim, my belt is sheathed with my largest dagger. I leave my hair down, perhaps to hide the light scars scattered across my face, not wanting to frighten her. I recognize that I am grizzly to look at under direct lighting, so I keep the candles burning low.

By the time she arrives with the jailer, I am seated and ready for her. He practically drags her across the room, and she lets out a pained grunt.

Immediately, I don’t like that he’s the reason for that noise.

“I did not say to hurt her,” I growl, glaring at the nameless man as he pauses, his face blanching at me.

“Very sorry, Captain,” he quickly apologizes. “It’s just…she’s not been very tame.”

My chest dips with satisfaction. Gazing at her, she slowly edges closer to her seat across from me. She is still hidden under the filthy robe she’s in.

“Take her cloak off,” I demand. “Then you may leave.”

Instantly, her cloak is ripped off her curvy body. She jumps, her arms hugging her chest as she stands there in the center of the room, trembling like a leaf in a plain, white dress. It’s form fitting above the waist–especially along her cleavage, where her tits are pushed up high–but billows past it, ending at her ankles.

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