Across Dark Seas (Beneath Black Sails, #0.5)

by Clare Sager

The sea. It was… beauty. Freedom. It was the promise she’d been searching for her whole life. The way it moved, it was alive. But it was also death—she’d heard of storms that struck the coasts and wrecked ships, taking them down to the bottom, never to be seen again. It was dangerous and magnificent and… Everything.

“Please forgive me saying, ser, but any woman would distract a crew of men starved of female company. A pretty young thing such as your wife would be more than they could withstand.” She ground her teeth, jaw aching. So she wasn’t allowed on a ship because a few men couldn’t keep their fool brains on their work? “Then perhaps they should have a bit more discipline”—she bit out the words—“they are the Queen’s Navy, after all.”

I see you, I know you, and I love you, my wilful, wayward girl. No matter what your father says, there’s nothing wrong with who you are. You aren’t too wild. You aren’t too bold. You aren’t too loud. You’re just right. It’s his world that’s wrong—it isn’t ready for you.

Fine. She’d rescue herself.

Love was for the weak. No more weakness for her. She’d saved herself—saved this whole ship. She was strong—what did she need with love?