Chapter 405:
Naia
I have never seen the captain laugh.
Not really. Not the way normal people laugh—with their whole bodies, with their eyes, with their souls. I have heard her mock. I have heard her sneer. I have heard her cackle at her own jokes while the crew pretended to be amused.
But a genuine laugh?
Never.
Until now.
I am standing near the main mast, pretending to check the rigging, when the door to the captain's cabin opens. Light spills out—warm and golden, different from the harsh sun overhead.
And then I hear it.
A laugh.
And it is disarming.
In a good way.
Seeing her like this, soft and human, makes me realize something I have never considered before.
She is lonely.
She has always been lonely.
And now she is not.
It is strange to witness. Like watching a storm cloud suddenly part to reveal sunlight. Like watching a blade learn to soften.
