While the children were busy fussing over the three-headed puppy, Catherine decided to take advantage of the crew's absence and approach Sinbad. It was time to reveal their true objective.
Up until now, the ship had maintained its course toward Velnora, the continent of witches, though their real destination was Nightingale. Further delay would hardly serve them—any hesitation could slow them down significantly.
This lie had been devised by Catherine and Cassia back in Stormdale, in case someone uncovered their identities. They could not allow pursuers to learn their true route or final destination.
To be completely honest, Catherine had secretly hoped the crew would reveal their true nature; attempt to rob her or otherwise harm her or her family. In that case, she would have been able to make her move with a clear conscience.
That was precisely why they had chosen not the most reputable captain among those offering their services in Stormdale.
The plan had been simple: at the right moment, take the ship and its crew hostage, forcing them to obey her will. An additional advantage would have been the pirates' connections with the port guards, which would allow them to sail without inspections.
Yet to her surprise—and faint disappointment—the entire voyage had gone almost perfectly. The sailors were polite, the captain respectful, all of them striving to make the journey smooth and safe. If not for the faint but unmistakable smell of stale alcohol and smoke, she might have doubted the dubious reputation of the "Violet."
At times she caught lingering looks filled with desire and lust, but it never escalated into crude words or actions. Such restraint unsettled Catherine, who found herself forced to revise her plans once again.
And now, when the crew had shown their first flicker of greed at the sight of the puppy, and when they had sailed far enough—too far for anyone from the Magical or Roman Empire to catch up—Catherine understood: the time had come to reveal herself.
With a gentle smile, she approached the captain's bridge, where Sinbad was standing at the moment, and said,
"We need to talk."
"I'm listening, Mrs. Ashford," the man replied at once, as if on command—chest puffed out, a servile smile fixed on his face.
"We need to change course," she said calmly, as though discussing the weather. "Velnora no longer suits us. We've decided to head to Nightingale instead."
The captain's eyes narrowed—granting her request would mean revising the entire route, seeking out new coves to replenish supplies, perhaps even altering his own plans for the future.
It was not merely inappropriate; it was brazen. But Catherine was not finished. She tilted her head slightly and offered a plaintive smile.
"I know I'm asking a great deal, and of course I will compensate you for all the inconvenience," she said in a soft, almost whispering voice.
To Sinbad's ears, her words sounded like the devil's whisper. She was playing with him. Deliberately. Gliding along the edge of what was permissible, leaving room for ambiguity, as though provoking him to be the one to cross that thin line.
And her beauty… too close, too vivid—dangerous in a way that grated on his nerves.
Sinbad faltered and took two steps back. "Hm… yes. It is troublesome indeed," he said in an exaggeratedly businesslike tone. "If Mrs. Ashford… agreed…"
He bit his tongue, realizing where his own thoughts were leading him, and forced himself to speak more firmly, almost chopping off the words: "…agreed to pay five… no. Ten gold coins. Then I will deliver you to the continent of vampires and werewolves safely and soundly."
Those words seemed to drain him of all strength. Only he knew how much effort it had cost him not to let his gaze drop below the line of her neck, not to look at the maddening hollow between her breasts.
Unbearable. Since when had he, Sinbad, allowed a woman to lead him by the nose?
"That's so much! Surely you can lower the price?" Catherine continued her game.
"Madam… believe me, my heart bleeds when I must refuse so прекрасной леди," he said, and for a brief moment bitterness flickered in his voice. "But I am responsible for the entire crew. Ten gold. Not a coin less."
The price sounded inflated, yet it was not reckless. There was neither malice nor coarseness in his tone—only the calculation of a businessman who understood perfectly well that this woman could cost him far more than gold.
He was bargaining not so much for money as for the right to keep his head on his shoulders and the remnants of his dignity.
Realizing there was no point in dragging it out any longer, Catherine allowed the mask of innocence to dissolve. Her expression changed instantly—as if someone had turned a page. A lazy, faintly amused smile curved at the corners of her lips, and her gaze sharpened, making it clear she was now speaking plainly.
"Heart?" she repeated with a soft chuckle, savoring the word as if tasting it. "You're joking? Sinbad… you don't have a heart. That's exactly what drew me to you when Cassius hired you. Such a greedy and ruthless pirate… ahem, forgive me, captain. Fufufu."
The smile vanished abruptly. Her voice turned cold in an instant, her gaze lethal.
"Let's set aside all these games. Tell me, Sinbad… since when did you become so obedient? We are wealthy merchants traveling without guards. You could have slit our throats on the very first night. But you didn't. Why? Do you know something?"
The moment the woman shifted her demeanor, Sinbad could have sworn she possessed countless ways to end his life right here and now.
The captain felt his stomach twist. There she was—the real Catherine. Not an elegant lady, not a pampered noblewoman, but a predator who no longer bothered to hide her fangs. It almost seemed as though the predator was irritated that its prey refused to walk obediently into its jaws.
The thin veil of courtesy between them had burst. He knew he was stepping into a minefield. The dull sense of unease that had followed him since the beginning of their voyage was now screaming of danger.
He did not understand the woman's motives or goals, but he understood one thing perfectly well: the game was being played by her rules. That was how the world worked—if the one across from you was stronger, every misplaced sound could cost you your head.
Though displeased, he was far from foolish. As a seasoned pirate, Sinbad had stood on both sides of the barricades more than once—he had been both executioner and captive. He knew how to survive: remain polite, speak softly, never expose yourself.
"Ahem. Ma'am, you have formed a very biased opinion of me. My heart aches deeply. I am an honest businessman and have never robbed my employer," he said, feigning wounded honor, though inside he was sweating like a hog bound for slaughter.
Catherine smiled again. "Fufufu… I believe you are the most honest pirate in the entire Southern Sea. But I'm certain you could easily provide… additional services. The sort after which we would be left without even our trousers."
"Ma'am, I—"
"The truth! Sinbad, the truth!" Catherine demanded.
Looking at that beautiful smile, Sinbad's heart skipped a beat—for more than one reason.
Though he considered himself a first-rate professional, before this woman he had not the slightest confidence in victory. And so he made the only correct choice—to be one hundred percent honest, both in his thoughts and in his fears.
Sinbad exhaled. "Uff, fine, fine. But first, I want one thing—you guarantee that my ship and my crew will remain unharmed. During the voyage… and after it."
Catherine gave a theatrical gasp. "Oh? So you're afraid of us? And why would that be?.."
The man kept silent.
"Fufufu, now we're playing the silent game? Very well. I promise—we will not harm you, your crew, or your ship. The promise stands exactly as long as you do what is required of you. But I want your honest answer." Catherine decided to take a step back.
Though she had wished to subjugate the entire crew, it was difficult to strike at a smiling face. Sinbad simply had not given her a reason to act.
"My subordinate saw the sound barrier of mana you put up when we were leaving the port of Stormdale, and none of my men could breach it," he blurted out, raising his hands in a universal gesture of surrender.
"And that's all?" Catherine asked doubtfully. She doubted that alone was enough reason for a gold-hungry pirate to surrender so easily. "Couldn't it have been an expensive magical artifact? We're sailing straight from the Magical Empire—such things aren't uncommon there."
"Yes, that's true. However, I trust my instincts. So I chose to be cautious and observe. And that was the right decision."
This time he did not pause and continued at once with his explanation.
"Although your performance was excellent, and you played the role of a 'spoiled lady' perfectly, there was never even a shadow of concern for your safety in your eyes.
Such fears are natural for any woman surrounded by suspicious men. In the character of a true 'spoiled princess,' beneath the bravado and affected primness there would be uncertainty. You, on the other hand, behave naturally and a little capriciously—but there is no fear in you.
To survive at sea, one must always be observant. I learned that lesson well. Our current situation only confirms the correctness of my convictions," Sinbad explained frankly, his hands still raised.
"Do you know who we are?" Catherine asked directly.
"I have my suspicions…"
"Fufufu, how cautious, how clever. Truly clever! Merely on the basis of a few suspicions, you managed to rein in not only your own greed, but that of your subordinates as well. I cannot help but admire your prudence.
In that case, I will be frank with you too. I truly expected that one of you would give me a reason to subjugate the entire ship. But you behaved honestly, without foolishness. Therefore… I am willing to give you a chance.
Do you wish to become my friend, Sinbad?" Catherine asked, narrowing her blue eyes.
Hearing her proposal, Sinbad felt no joy—only a tightening of his nerves. He immediately understood that this question was, at best, another test, and at worst, another trap.
She was not merely playing with words. "To be a friend" was not friendship, but a trial of loyalty. She was seeking a guarantee. And Sinbad understood that all too well.
Dealing with those stronger than oneself had always been troublesome. Every gesture, every word could become the last. At this moment, the captain stood on the edge of a blade. He had been given a chance—to preserve his freedom while proving his usefulness. Perhaps his only chance.
He remained silent for nearly two minutes. All that time, Catherine watched him calmly—a gentle smile, a beautiful face… and a predatory, attentive gaze.
Sinbad felt like a pauper trying to convince a moneylender to grant him one final loan. Without the right to make a mistake.
At last, he spoke.
"I, Sinbad De Lucarrd, captain of the 'Violet,' known as the 'Selfless Pirate,' swear by my name and title that I will always be a friend to Lady…"
"Catherine," the woman interrupted, forced to reveal her true name.
"…I will always be a friend to Lady Catherine and her family. So long as my freedom remains mine, I shall not betray her friendship. I will do everything within my power to assist her, whatever I may be asked. By my saber's heart, I swear to follow these words clearly and faithfully. May my path of advancement come to an end should I break this oath."
The moment she heard his words, Catherine eased her pressure. She was genuinely impressed by the pirate's resolve, as well as his sharp mind. Faced with a powerful adversary, Sinbad had not only kept his composure, but had also swiftly devised a solution that gave her reason to trust him.
At their level, such oaths were not mere nonsense. To break one's promise was tantamount to renouncing all future advancement.
"Fufufu, Sinbad, oh Sinbad. You choose your words very well. You know when to press forward and when to retreat. And most importantly—you know what a woman wants. With such a mindset, I am certain that in ten years you will join the ranks of the Sky-Dwellers (7)." She paused and offered him a sorrowful smile.
"Had I met you five years ago, I might even have considered allowing you to remain by my side. But now…
Let us not dwell on that. I accept your gesture of goodwill."
Hearing her words, Sinbad felt the weight lift from his shoulders—as though a noose had been loosened at the final moment. And the remark that he might once have counted on her favor struck harder than any slap.
The mere thought of standing, even for a moment, beside such a woman—beautiful, commanding, unfathomable—was dangerously tempting. But Catherine did not allow the captain to drown in that fantasy. She was already speaking again:
"I, Catherine, born an orphan, now a single mother of twins, swear upon my colorless core to be a friend to Sinbad De Lucarrd."
For a moment, Sinbad forgot how to breathe. He simply did not know what to say. The woman's action seemed sincerely incomprehensible to him. It was one thing to give praise and offer a promise. But to swear upon one's core… That felt excessive.
She was far stronger than he was, and therefore could have demanded anything she wished without caring for his opinion. That was how the world worked.
Strength, power, status. By every measure, she stood a head above him. She could have commanded, demanded, pressed—and no one would have judged her for it. On the contrary, even fallen nobles considered association with a pirate a disgrace.
Yet she had gone further—she had lowered herself to equality.
And because of that, her action seemed even more inexplicable. No matter how he looked at it, such sincerity had not been necessary.
"Why?" Sinbad asked, bewildered.
Catherine smiled faintly, this time more amicably, and clarified, "Are you asking why I didn't attack you despite my strength? Or why I went so far as to swear friendship in return?"
"Both."
"Fufufu," Catherine laughed. "Tell me, what do you think a Sky-Dweller is, Sinbad?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued.
"A Sky-Dweller is one who has awakened their soul. To advance, we must understand ourselves—our principles and convictions—and act in strict accordance with them. Each time a Sky-Dweller betrays their conscience, a demon is born within their mind, one that hinders further progress.
Do not be mistaken—very few truly grasp such subtleties. Even I can only vaguely sense a warning when I attempt to stray from my own principles.
Despite my strength, I am still young," she went on. "I have never had to act against my conscience, and my convictions are still forming. Perhaps that is why my soul is purer from the outset than that of most Sky-Dwellers, and why I am able to perceive that faint feeling."
Catherine genuinely liked her new friend a little—though, of course, only as a friend. And so she shared her experience with him honestly and openly.
It was valuable advice from a practitioner at the level of a Sky-Dweller. The kind of thing no amount of gold could buy. Only those who had been stuck at the stage of Saint Sage (6) for years could truly appreciate its worth.
Sinbad was precisely one of them.
The aura of his saber, which he had cultivated, stirred at once. His gaze cleared, as though a film had been lifted from his eyes.
He had just attained enlightenment. One step closer to the stage of Sky-Dweller. Catherine's casual explanation had saved him at least two years of relentless training. That was why such words were priceless.
The experience of advancing into the ranks of Sky-Dwellers—the inner state, the proper mindset—was a closely guarded secret within every organization of Eridania. The fact that Catherine had shared such vital knowledge with him so openly, almost carelessly, shook Sinbad even more deeply.
He simply could not understand what he had done to deserve such generosity, but he was sincerely grateful.