The Grand Duke's Soulmate-Chapter 590: A Wager on the Sea

The wind swept across the deck, carrying the scent of salt as the ship cut steadily through the blue water.

It had been a fine stretch of sailing. Surprisingly fair weather had followed them since their departure, even after their brief layover on an island.

Everything had gone well.

Everything—except for one small matter.

"I told ye, it be comin’ up within twenty nautical miles!" Seadog Grimm barked from the sterncastle, his weathered hand pointing across the horizon. "Best haul the helm starboard now, or we’ll run straight into it!"

"What nonsense are ye spoutin’, old salt?" another voice snapped back. "The wind’s fair, the sea’s clear, an’ there ain’t no blasted island on the chart! Why should we swing the ship off course like a drunken gull?"

The two men continued their heated exchange above.

Down on the lower deck, Luke rolled his eyes.

"Here we go again..." he muttered with a sigh. "How long is this going to last?"

"Until we reach our destination," Eric replied dryly, casting a sideways glance toward the stern where the quarrel was growing louder.

"Captain Blackmane!"

Another voice suddenly cut into the argument.

Firm. Authoritative.

Both of them turned at once.

Boots struck heavily against the wooden deck as someone approached.

Kyren stepped into view—calm and composed as always, though the sternness in his expression made it clear he had heard enough.

Before his arrival, another man had already been standing on the sterncastle deck—the shipmaster himself, caught awkwardly between the pirate captain and Seadog Grimm as their argument escalated.

Now all three men turned their attention to the grand duke.

"What did I tell you?" Kyren said, lifting a brow as he looked at Captain Blackmane. "Any decision regarding our sailing direction before we reach the eastern waters must take Seadog Grimm’s judgement into account."

The old seaman’s lips curled into a triumphant smile at once, clearly pleased that the grand duke had taken his side.

Captain Blackmane huffed and planted his hands on his hips.

"He ain’t the only man aboard who knows the sea," the pirate captain remarked. "And he’s askin’ us to swing the ship aside without even givin’ a proper reason."

"Not a change of course, Your Highness," Seadog Grimm said, bowing respectfully before continuing. "Just a swerve to starboard. I can feel the cold breath o’ the sea comin’ from that path ahead. If my bones ain’t lyin’, there’ll be an iceberg driftin’ along that route."

"Iceberg?" Captain Blackmane barked out a laugh. "In summer? That’s the maddest thing I’ve heard since we left port! Look up there—sun’s blazing like a forge!"

"Summer’s only just begun," the old seaman replied calmly. "There’re still great chunks o’ ice driftin’ from the northern waters, not yet melted away. Ye haven’t sailed long enough to witness such things."

"How dare—"

"Enough!"

Kyren’s voice cracked across the deck like a whip, cutting the pirate captain short. His gaze moved between the two men, each standing stubbornly in their own certainty.

At last, he turned to Seadog Grimm.

"Are you certain of what you’re sensing?"

"I am, Your Highness," the old seaman answered without hesitation. "If we don’t swerve soon, we may sail straight into it."

The grand duke then shifted his attention to the shipmaster.

"If we follow his advice, what would be the impact on our course?" he asked.

"Not much impact on our travel time," the shipmaster replied after a moment of thought. "But it would require some labour to steer back onto our original path."

His eyes scanned the open sea ahead.

"Our dead reckoning is based on the duration of the previous voyage," he continued. "But it remains imprecise. We still do not know Semeta’s exact location, so we cannot calculate the final bearing with certainty. At best, we can adjust the heading for now."

"The thing be lyin’ some twenty nautical miles ahead..." Seadog Grimm muttered, scratching his beard as he worked the distance through his mind. "A small swerve’ll serve us fine. Bear her a touch t’ starboard an’ keep the bow clear o’ that path. Won’t cost us more’n a whisper o’ time, mark me words."

The shipmaster nodded slowly, agreeing with the old seaman’s judgment.

However—

"Hah!" Captain Blackmane barked with a crooked grin, folding his arms across his chest. "Hear that confidence! Ye’d think he’s got the sea tellin’ secrets straight into his ear. Might as well call yerself a prophet while ye’re at it."

"Captain," Kyren said evenly, his voice low but edged with authority as he looked at the pirate. "Seadog Grimm once predicted a storm at sea for my crew and me—and he was correct. I advise you not to dismiss his experience so lightly."

Captain Blackmane gave a dismissive snort.

"I ain’t sailin’ out here for stories an’ ghost tales," he said bluntly. "I’m here to reach the island. Every turn o’ the rudder costs time. Didn’t ye say yerself ye want to reach the place quick as the wind’ll carry us?"

He jabbed a finger towards Seadog Grimm.

"Besides... I don’t trust the old barnacle."

"Ye trust?" the old seaman scoffed, beard bristling. "Ha! I’d sooner trust the tide not to turn than gain the trust of a sea-rat who calls hisself captain."

Kyren closed his eyes briefly and rolled them upward.

He knew exactly where Captain Blackmane’s loyalties lay. The pirate captain had agreed to guide them only because of the hefty payment promised upon arrival.

The gold mine on Agathe Island had long since begun to yield nothing worth the trouble.

The pirates had been forced to halt their mining during the winter when the surrounding waters froze. They had waited until spring to resume their work, but even then, the ore became less rich over the weeks.

By the time summer came, the mine was nearly depleted.

Captain Blackmane was clearly displeased.

When Kyren and his men had first arrived at Agathe Island, they had walked straight into the pirate captain’s furious outburst over the mine.

Yet the agreement had already been made, and no one had guaranteed how much gold the earth would yield, and the pirate captain’s side had accepted the risk from the beginning.

Still, the empty veins of the mine had left him and his men bitter.

Fortunately for them, another opportunity soon presented itself.

The Grand Duke had offered a far more generous bargain that none among them could easily refuse.

In exchange for a substantial sum of gold, the pirates would guide the entourage eastward, across the unfamiliar waters of their homeland.

Their destination would be Sabel Island, a territory under the rule of the Mederians.

That had unsettled Captain Blackmane and his crew initially.

Though they proudly called themselves the pirates, not a single one of them had ever dared approach the true waters of the Mederians.

The people of that realm were notorious across the seas—renowned for their mastery in combat, their ruthless war tactics, their unyielding strength, and most feared of all, their magical abilities.

So instead, they roamed other seas, raiding merchant ships and coastal routes far from the Mederian domain.

Yet pride was a stubborn thing. They still carried the title ’Pirates of the East’, as though the strength of that formidable region somehow belonged to them as well.

In truth, none of them possessed such greatness.

"Fine then," Kyren said at last. "Let us settle this with a wager."

The suggestion caught them off guard as none had expected it.

"If Seadog Grimm is mistaken," the Grand Duke continued calmly, "I will reward you with three bars of gold. From that moment onward, the course of the ship will follow your judgement."

"And if he proves right?" Captain Blackmane asked.

Kyren’s gaze shifted briefly towards the old seaman before returning to the pirate captain.

"Then you will heed his guidance for the remainder of the voyage," he said. "Without further dispute."

A slow grin spread across the pirate captain’s face; his eyes lit up at the mention of gold.

"Now that sounds like a wager worth makin’."

He had already received half of the payment promised by Kyren—fifty gold bars—for agreeing to guide the entourage. The remaining half would be handed over upon reaching their destination.

At one point, the pirate captain had briefly considered robbing the grand duke outright. The wealth alone was tempting enough.

But the thought had not lasted long.

The Cassians’ reputation for prowess and discipline was known to him from the last war.

Picking a fight with them would bring him far more trouble than profit. Following Kyren’s offer, on the other hand, required no bloodshed and no risk—just sailing.

Easy gold.

And the bars themselves were no small pieces either. Each one carried enough weight to make the entire arrangement too good to refuse.

"I agree!" Captain Blackmane exclaimed at once, eager to seal the wager before the offer could be withdrawn.

Seadog Grimm and the shipmaster both turned to Kyren with scrutinising looks. At first glance, the wager seemed to favour the pirate captain.

Yet when they noticed the faint nod Kyren gave them, understanding dawned, and their tense expressions relaxed.

"All right then," Kyren said. "Shipmaster, take the helm and make the swerve. Seadog Grimm, advise the heading and angle."

Both men nodded and moved to carry out the order.

Luke and Eric, who had been watching the commotion from the lower deck, merely shook their heads. Fortunately, the matter had been handled well this time.

The previous quarrel had ended far worse. One of the pirates had clashed with a member of the ship’s crew, and the argument had quickly spiralled into a full brawl.

In the end, the second-in-command knight had been forced to intervene, locking both men in the hold and leaving them there without food until they agreed to settle their dispute.

Such measures were sometimes unavoidable when dealing with men of that sort.

"How brazen of him..." Luke muttered. "In the end, it always comes down to money."

"We expected nothing less," Eric replied. "They’re ruffians. They won’t turn obedient overnight. We just have to put up with them."

Then he tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk touching his lips.

"But at least their antics give us something to watch. It’s better than seeing that man drowning in longing every day."

He gestured subtly with his lips toward a lone figure leaning against the railing, staring out at the endless stretch of sea with a solemn expression.

"You mean Sir Mills?" a voice came from behind.

Alex had just stepped out from the cabin and approached them, having caught the tail end of their conversation.

Eric turned and nodded in acknowledgement.

"He’s been like that since the day we set sail," Luke said. "I never thought he could look so lovesick."

"I wouldn’t call it lovesickness," Alex replied thoughtfully. "Something is weighing heavily on his mind."

"You know him better than I do," Luke said, raising both hands in surrender, his mouth twisting into a resigned expression.

"Perhaps you should go speak to him and ask," Eric suggested to Alex.

"Wouldn’t you be the one better suited to give advice?" the knight asked.

The second-in-command knight shook his head.

"He didn’t come to me. If I approach him directly, it might only embarrass him." He folded his arms lightly. "You’re different. You’ve worked alongside him in most of the assignments, and you’re the one who noticed something was wrong. It would be more natural for you to start the conversation. If it turns out he needs my involvement, then I’ll step in."

Alex considered the suggestion.

Drystan had always been a man who kept his personal matters tightly guarded. Rarely did he speak of what troubled him.

Most of the time, he either dealt with it on his own or buried it deep inside rather than seeking help.

"All right," Alex agreed at last. "I’ll talk to him."

Even knowing Drystan’s stubborn pride, he could not simply ignore the knight’s state. Whatever the problem was, it needed to be handled properly.

"Let me know if you need help," Eric said.

Alex nodded and walked towards the front deck.

Drystan stood alone by the railing, staring silently across the vast sea.

Luke watched Alex go, his eyes trailing the movement.

"I wonder what the drama is this time..." he muttered.

***

Alex approached slowly, the wooden deck creaking beneath his boots.

Drystan remained where he was. The wind tugged lightly at his brown hair and cloak, but he didn’t seem to bother.

Alex stopped beside him and rested his arms on the railing as well.

"Smooth water today," he remarked casually. "Just like the days before."

Drystan gave a short nod without looking away. "It is."

"It’s our first voyage," Alex added. "Surprisingly calm, isn’t it? I thought we’d be battling waves and storms by now."

Another brief nod.

The silence stretched for a moment before Alex glanced sideways at him.

"You’ve been quiet lately."

Drystan didn’t answer.

Alex let out a small breath. "You know... people are starting to notice."

That finally drew a reaction. Drystan’s brow furrowed slightly.

"Notice what?"

"That something’s bothering you."

Drystan clicked his tongue and turned his gaze back to the sea. "There’s nothing."

"Come on. If you keep bottling things up like this, it’s going to affect your focus. And that’s the last thing we need on a journey like this."

Still, Drystan said nothing.

The wind passed between them again, carrying the distant creak of the ship’s rigging.

At last, Drystan exhaled heavily.

"...It’s about Sylvie."

Alex blinked.

"Sylvie?" he repeated. "You mean your wife, Lady Mills?"

Drystan nodded.

Alex observed him for a moment before asking, "You miss her that much?" Then he let out a small laugh. "I never thought you’d be the lovesick type."

Drystan shook his head at once.

"I do miss her," he admitted. "But that’s not the problem."

"Then what is?"

Drystan hesitated. His eyes faltered to the railing, "I lay with her."

Alex frowned, clearly confused.

"You’re married. That’s part of married life."

Drystan fell silent.

The sea rolled endlessly before them, and the waves broke when they hit the hull.

For a few moments, he said nothing. Then, in a low voice, he finally spoke.

"I shouldn’t have done so."

"Why not?"

"...Because our marriage was based on a contract."