Cas stood in Valentine’s cabin as an actual crew member of the Scarlet Mamba at last.

A teenage cabin boy had lent him some clothes, dark trousers that puffed out from a pair of worn, knee-high boots, and a loose white shirt that Cas wore with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The boy had thrown in a vest that he’d received from his mother for his birthday and had always hated. It was made of faded blue linen with flowers stitched delicately across the front in orange and yellow thread.

This was Cas’ first experience with pants and he was fascinated. He extended his legs as far apart as they could go, then closed them, then spread them wide once more, taking in the stretch of the fabric against his skin.

His face scrunched up at the sensation. It was so weird that humans willingly chose to wear these restraining garments instead of just letting everything hang free the way nature intended.

As Cas continued to open and close his legs, Valentine leaned back in his seat behind a mahogany desk and gave him a scrutinizing look. Said desk was littered with papers, bottles, quills, maps, and countless balls of crumpled parchment scattered across its surface. Ironically, the desk seemed to be the sole area of disorder in the otherwise impeccably organized cabin.

Countless bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with well-worn leather tomes. Each book was so perfectly placed that not a single one stuck out from the rest.

Cas’ gaze drifted across the oil paintings that adorned the space, depicting mythical creatures from the ocean’s depths: sirens, krakens, and sea serpents. A large window overlooking the sea dominated the back of the cabin. Heavy scarlet silks cascaded down either side, creating a perfect frame for Valentine as his cold gaze flickered upward to meet Cas’.

“So,” Valentine said, “let’s set some ground rules.”

He brought his hands down hard against the desk, causing the items on it to rattle. “From this point forward you will never slack off, you will never leak information about the Scarlet Mamba, and you will never betray the small amount of trust I’m about to give you.”

Grabbing one of the half-filled bottles, Valentine rose to his feet. The thud of his boots echoed off the walls as he made his way around the desk, coming to a stop before Cas. “If you fail even one of these conditions, it will result in your immediate extermination, understood?”

“I think you meant termination, right?” Cas asked, flashing him a tight smile.

“Same thing on this ship.” Tugging off the bottle’s cork with his teeth, Valentine brought it to his lips and downed a mouthful in one, long swig.

Cas blinked. “Are you… drinking… in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Yes. I am currently far too sober.”

Valentine took another hefty swig, wiping his mouth with the side of his hand. “This is the only way I can tolerate you enough to get through a full conversation.”

“Hey!” Cas gasped. “Okay, first off, rude. Second off, that doesn’t seem entirely healthy.”

“Counterpoint, I don’t care.”

Valentine crossed his arms, and without his gloves on, the action caused the dim light to catch something glinting off his pinky finger. For the first time, Cas noticed the silver ring there, a half-sun etched across its surface.

“Moving on,” Valentine continued, “As stated before, I’m only allowing you to remain on my ship because you’re a merperson with healing magic. That means that as long as you’re aboard, I expect you to apply said magic to any crew member who may need aid, understood?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Cas said, offering him a two finger salute. “I’ll heal anyone who needs it. Even you!”

Valentine’s expression twisted strangely. “That won’t be necessary,”

“Really?” Cas asked, lacing his fingers behind his back. “But what if you start bleeding out and the only one who can save you is good ol’ Cas?”

Something unreadable flickered across Valentine’s gaze. “I can assure you with the utmost confidence—that scenario will never occur.”

Cas let out a little huff, crossing his arms. Arrogant asshole.

“In addition to your abilities as a healer,” Valentine continued, having made the executive decision that they were moving on. “You’ll be taking on the role and responsibilities of cabin boy.”

“What!?” Cas gasped. “But you already have a cabin boy!”

“I’m promoting him,” Valentine replied curtly. “Such a low-level job is the only position suitable for your skill set.”

“But I’m a prince!” Cas protested.

“Precisely,” Valentine countered. “Do you know anything about sailing?”

“Well, um… no,” Cas said.

Valentine arched one perfect brow. “Sword fighting?”

“Err… that’s also gonna be a no.”

“The difference between a fore-boom and a forecastle deck?”

Cas’ eyes narrowed. “Okay, now you’re just making words up!”

“How about loading cannons?” Valentine asked, looming over him. “You know how to do that?”

Cas grimaced. “Yeah… no.”

“Then it looks like it’s going to be deck-scrubbing for you, cabin boy,” Valentine said, giving Cas a slap on the back so hearty it sent him stumbling forward.

Cas’ shoulders sagged, his earlier confidence deflating like a popped balloon.

This wasn’t exactly the most glamorous start to his new life as a pirate, was it? “Yo, ho, yo, ho, a poop-deck-scrubber’s life for me” didn’t really have the same ring to it.

***

“The captain’s actually very nice once you get to know him,” the redhead—who Cas now knew as Jasper—said with an awkward smile. The giant bald man, Johan, walked in silence behind them, contributing very little to the conversation, as always.

Valentine had instructed the two men to show Cas around the ship. This had led to an extremely awkward tour, considering that the two of them had nearly gotten him murdered a few hours ago.

Shockingly, that wasn't even the worst part of the excursion. That esteemed honor went to the way Jasper had turned it into an “I love Valentine” tour.

The young man babbled on as they made their way across the deck, oranges and reds from the setting sun shimmering off the water like liquid fire.

“I know he might come off as mean at first, but I promise, he’s really an incredibly caring person,” Jasper gushed. His eyes sparkled behind the thick lenses of his glasses as he spoke.

“Sure,” Cas replied flatly, “because nothing says ‘I’ve got a heart of gold’ like spewing countless murder threats every day.”

“Gosh, just wait till you see him fight!” Jasper swooned, still lost in his own thoughts. “His swordsmanship is like… Wow.” He let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, and he’s just so smart and charismatic and wonderful that no one here would ever sail under any other captain!”

“Pfft,” Cas snorted. “Just marry the guy and ride off into the sunset already.”

Jasper froze, his cheeks going a bright shade of red.

“O-Oh no,” he stammered, awkwardly adjusting his glasses. “My feelings for the captain are not like that. And even if they were, nothing would ever happen. The captain hates...”

He shook his head, attempting to rephrase. “Err… he doesn’t engage in relationships. Been that way ever since he was kidna—”

Jasper froze, his mouth clamping shut as he received a warning glance from Johan.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air until Jasper cleared his throat. “Uh… Johan…? Wasn’t there something the captain wanted us to warn him about?”

Johan nodded. “Mm-n.”

Another awkward silence followed.

“Do you, err… happen to remember what it was..?” Jasper asked, his voice verging on desperate.

Johan gave another stiff nod. “Kishi.”

Jasper’s eyes went wide, magnified larger still by his glasses. “Right. Kishi!”

They descended the stairs leading into the belly of the ship, the thin wooden planks creaking beneath their weight as the ship’s darkness closed in around them.

“The ship’s first mate is nocturnal," Jasper elaborated as they continued downwards, "which is, uh… rather unorthodox, I know. But the captain has his reasons. He always has his reasons. Kishi is only around during the day when it’s necessary, which means now that we have the map, we’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him. So, err… just be warned that... Oh goodness... How do I put this…”

“When you meet him, he’ll intoxicate you,” Johan’s deep voice rumbled, displaying—to Cas’ shock—that he actually was capable of speaking a full, coherent sentence.

Cas blinked. “Intoxicate?

The tips of Jasper’s ears went pink. “You’ll understand soon. It’s overwhelming at first, and, um… it affects everyone to different degrees. Some more than others.”

Jasper’s flush darkened, his gaze darting away. “But don’t worry, it’ll wear off eventually.”

Contrary to Jasper’s intended purpose, that explanation left Cas considerably more confused. He opened his mouth to ask for clarification, but Jasper, still red in the face, seemed to have decided to move on to another topic.

“Err… we should probably inform you of one final thing,” Jasper said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his narrow nose. “Whatever you do, never, ever bring up the name…” His gaze darted about nervously, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Cecilia.”

Cas let out a huff of laughter. “What? Is she, like, Valentine’s ex or something?”

Johan and Jasper exchanged a long, uncomfortable glance.

“Just don't ever say it,” Johan said flatly.

“Unless you have a death wish,” Jasper added with a shrill, anxious laugh. “Which, um… I suppose you actually might, considering you willingly snuck onto the Scarlet Mamba.”

They entered the sleeping quarters. Dim light from the lanterns hanging around the ship cast flickering shadows across the walls, which swayed in time with the ship. Coarse, fraying rope drooped from the ceiling, suspending numerous hammocks. A few crew members rested within them, various arms and legs dangling limply over the sides. The briny smell of the sea clung to the air, mingling with the musky stench of the hammocks and their occupants.

Jasper pointed to a hammock at the very back. “That’s where you’ll be sleeping!”

Even half-submerged in shadows, it was obviously the worst of the bunch—a ragged scrap of cloth hanging on for dear life to the rope holding it in place.

Cas grimaced.

“And that concludes the tour! What’d you think?” Jasper asked, offering him a bright smile.

I’d rate it a solid zero out of ten, Cas thought.