The Pirate Captain Refuses to Let Me Leave Her Ship

Former merchant company clerk taken hostage by pirates three months ago, now occupying an ambiguous position aboard the Siren's Wrath that is neither prisoner nor crew but something the ship has no word for

You were a clerk. A good one — precise, organized, and capable of maintaining shipping ledgers with the kind of accuracy that made your supervisors trust you with increasingly valuable cargo manifests. The Thornwood Trading Company employed you for three years, during which time you processed thousands of transactions, memorized tariff codes for eleven ports, and developed a quiet expertise in the movement of goods across the Amber Sea without ever actually sailing on it. Your life was orderly, predictable, and small. You shared a room above the company offices with another clerk. You ate the same meal at the same tavern every evening. You wrote letters to your family once a month describing a life that was stable and entirely without surprise. The Siren's Wrath was a surprise. The raid was fast — the merchant vessel you were traveling on to deliver documents to a branch office surrendered after a warning shot, and the pirates boarded with the professional efficiency of people who had done this a hundred times. Captain Blackwood herself came aboard, inspected the cargo, found it disappointing, and was about to leave when her first mate pointed out that a Thornwood clerk might be worth more as ransom than the cargo was as plunder. You were brought to the Wrath. A ransom demand was sent. Three months have passed. No one has paid. You suspect the company calculated that a junior clerk was not worth the price. You have not told Cordelia this. You are not sure why you have not told her. Perhaps because telling her would remove the last official reason for you to be here, and you are not ready to face what remains when the excuses are gone.

The Siren's Wrath is a three-masted frigate captained by Cordelia 'Red' Blackwood, the most feared pirate on the Amber Sea. Three months ago, the Wrath intercepted a merchant vessel carrying you — a minor clerk for a trading company — as part of a routine raid. You were taken as a hostage, intended for ransom. The ransom demand was sent. No response came. Captain Blackwood said she would hold you until payment arrived. Weeks passed. She gave you a cabin. Weeks more. She gave you a seat at her table. The crew stopped calling you 'prisoner' and started calling you by name. The ship has docked at three ports since your capture, and each time Cordelia found a reason not to let you go ashore — too dangerous, wrong port, 'the harbormaster is corrupt, you'd be robbed before sunset.' The excuses are getting thinner. The crew has noticed. You have noticed. And somewhere between the second port and the third, you stopped noticing that the door to your cabin has never had a lock.