Dawn crawled across the Sea Lion in streaks of fire and gold, but Henry saw only shadows. He tiptoed through the cramped belly of the ship, his boots silent on the weathered planks. The world above was waking—sailors grumbling, ropes creaking, the briny stink of the ocean thick in the air. But Henry's mind was elsewhere, gnawing at questions that wouldn't let him sleep.

Earlier, he had watched Ambudhi and his son on deck, their heads bent close together. They were coiled springs, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Henry knew shipboard secrets mirrored the peril of storms. He waited until the footsteps faded, then slipped down the narrow passage beneath the captain's quarters, following the sound of their voices through the thin, splintered wood.

Pressing himself into the shadows, his heartbeat steady, he strained to listen. Abijam's voice came first—tight, anxious—while Ambudhi's was lower and more measured. At first, it was just the usual worries: fears for Arieshell, concerns about pursuit, and the talk of hidden friends in Mombasa.

But then Abijam's words sharpened, slicing through the haze of half-sleep that clung to Henry. "... her voice—it's not just for men. It can control anyone. Captain, crew, king. If Henry even suspects—"

Henry froze, every nerve alive. Control anyone? That was new.

Whispers about Arieshell's voice and its effect on men had reached him before, but he had brushed them off as mere superstition or allure. But this was something else. Something dangerous. Something useful.

Henry pressed closer, careful not to make the wood groan beneath him. He listened as Abijam whispered, "If he realizes what she can do, he'll go after her. He'll make her sing for him. Use her to command the crew, the port, even the people back home..."

A slow, bitter smile spread across Henry's lips as the possibilities unfurled in his mind—mutinous sailors tamed by a single note, rivals in Mombasa brought to heel, the entire kingdom bent to his will. Ambudhi's voice responded, low and unsteady, offering reassurances about precautions, loyal crew, and secrecy.

Yet Henry could detect the underlying doubt in his tone, the unmistakable stink of fear.

They had hidden her power, hidden it even from him. Anger simmered within him, restrained, banked behind his eyes. There was no need to rush; he hid inside the wooden shell amidst the sea. One storm, one slip, and secrets could spill like blood. He drew back from the wall and moved up the narrow steps to the deck.

As the morning glare hit him, his mind raced ahead. He would find Arieshell, and he would make her sing for him. Her voice could ensure total loyalty, removing all obstacles in his path. In his mind, he alone remained, with the world at his feet.

From the deck above, he watched Ambudhi and Abijam, their silhouettes framed by the climbing sun. They appeared so sure, so desperate to keep him in the dark. An almost laughable thought crossed his mind. Let them whisper. Let them plot. In the end, it would all come to him.

The Sea Lion surged forward, its sails cracking in the wind. His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where the city of Mombasa, a place of mystery, awaited imminent alteration. This time, he would deny no one.

Henry spotted Abijam in the crow's nest, his sharp gaze sweeping across the horizon. The young man seemed engrossed in the vastness of the ocean, so Henry called up, his voice slicing through the wind.

"A fine day for sailing, isn't it?"

Abijam's brow furrowed at the interruption. "What do you want?" he shot back, his tone terse.

"Just admiring the view. It's a rare thing to see the ocean like this. So vast, so untamed." Henry watched as Abijam remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the distant line where sea met sky.

Undeterred, Henry climbed the rope ladder with a grace that concealed the anticipation bubbling within him. He noted Abijam's tense posture and the way his fingers gripped the edge of the crow's nest.

"I've been meaning to ask, how does your sister fare in these conditions?" he continued, probing for any flicker of a response.

Abijam turned sharply, sunlight casting strong shadows across his face. "Why do you care?" he retorted, suspicion lacing his words.

"Oh, just a concerned soul, looking out for the well-being of our passengers," Henry replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He finally climbed onto the narrow wooden platform, the sea stretching endlessly beneath them, the sound of creaking wood harmonizing with the distant roar of the waves.

Facing Abijam fully now, Henry sensed the younger man's tension, the way his jaw tightened in defiance. Despite being shorter, Abijam's glare was as sharp as a cutlass. "Arieshell's none of your concern, King. Keep to your own business, or I'll make it my business to throw you overboard," he warned, an edge of hostility in his voice.

Henry felt a chill of exhilaration at the threat, his smile growing colder. Leaning casually against the crow's nest, he crossed his arms. "Now, now, no need for threats. I was just curious about our mysterious guest. She's quite the enigma, isn't she?" The words slipped from his lips like honey, and sweet but dangerous.

Abijam narrowed his eyes further, clearly unwilling to engage in Henry's games. "If you've got something to say, spit it out. Otherwise, leave me be with your games and deceit."

The wind picked up, whipping Henry's grey hair around his face as he stepped closer to the rail. Before him lay the sea, a vast, unpredictable expanse of blue. He couldn't help but tsk at Abijam's words. "Games? Deceit? I'm merely a man seeking to understand the heart of the voyage," he thought. His gaze flickered to Abijam's expression.

The young man looked weary, fear etching lines into his face, while his dark hair lay matted from a restless night. Those tight fists gripping the rail brought a hint of satisfaction to Henry; he liked the uncertainty in Abijam.

"Your sister is quite the prize, isn't she?" he mused, a smirk curling his lips. "A treasure worth crossing oceans for." He relished the thought, sensing the vast potential that lay ahead.

Abijam's eyes searched his, as if seeking the truth amidst the carefully crafted smiles and lies. Henry noted the way the young man recoiled, the tension coiling tighter with every word. "If you knew what she truly was, you'd be running from her," Abijam said, his voice carrying a raw intensity. "She's no prize, but a curse, a weapon you could never hope to wield without destroying yourself."

Intrigued, Henry looked down from his vantage point. The ship below was a complex network of rigging and sails, its crew mere compact figures against the relentless stretch of the sea. He reveled in the power to control the world's fate.

The brim of his wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over his face, yet his blue eyes glinted with greed—a newfound hunger. "A weapon, you say?" he leaned closer, letting his breath warm the space between them. The thrill of potential ignited within him. "Now that is something I can appreciate. And I've never been one to shy away from a powerful tool, no matter how... volatile."

Abijam stepped back, his hat threatened by the relentless wind. The sun climbed higher, kindling the horizon in fiery red hues, yet the warmth did nothing to ease the rising tension between them.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Abijam managed, his voice tinged with desperation. "Arieshell is a person, not a tool for your ambitions. She's suffered enough because of that accursed voice. If you have any shred of decency, you'll leave her be!"

Henry enjoyed the turmoil evident in Abijam's eyes. He sensed the young man's alarm and protectiveness, which he found intriguing. Amid Abijam's desperation, Henry perceived an opportunity for something far more significant than he had ever experienced. This was just the start of the game.

"A siren," Abijam stumbled, confusion etched across his face. Henry smiled, the words hanging in the air, charged with the electricity of revelation. He could see Abijam's eyes widen, the truth slipping from him like water through a sieve. "What—what are you talking about?"

"Oh, come now," Henry responded, chuckling, though his eyes remained unaffected. "I've heard the murmurs. A siren's call, so powerful it can even entice the wind to obey her wishes. How... remarkable."

Abijam tightened his grip on the crow's nest, his stormy sea-colored eyes flashing with defiance. "You know nothing of her, of what she's suffered."

Henry's smirk widened. "I know exactly what a siren is capable of. And I suspect she could be quite the... asset, in the right hands."

Abijam's anger flared, his voice sharp as the ship's bow slicing through the waves. "My sister is not a thing to be used. She's a person with feelings and fears, and she's suffered enough because of that damned gift!"

"Oh, please," Henry dismissed lightly, his eyes glinting. "I've discovered you and your father are from the sea."

Abijam's grip tightened further, knuckles turning white as he faced Henry, fury mingling with fear. "What do you want from her?" he demanded, his voice taut with emotion.

"Just a demonstration," Henry replied, his tone as casual as if he were asking for a dance at a ball rather than the power to command the seas. He leaned in slightly, his intrigue palpable. "I've heard the whispers, you know. Of a siren's call so sweet it could charm the very stars from the sky. And if she truly wields such power, imagine the possibilities."

Henry leaned back against the wooden rail of the crow's nest, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he observed Abijam's intensity. The younger man's body was taut with tension, his voice dropping to a threatening growl.

"You'll leave her alone," Abijam warned, and Henry could sense the weight behind those words, a desperate protectiveness in them.

"Or what?" Henry replied, his demeanor unaffected by the hostility. He enjoyed this little game they were playing, the way the young prince's anger sparked and flickered like a candle flame against the looming darkness. "You'll use your royal charm to make me?"

Abijam's jaw clenched, his frustration palpable. "You'll regret it if you harm her," he spat, eyes blazing.

"Harm?" Henry feigned a look of innocence, delighting in the tension. "I assure you, my intentions are purely... academic." He relished the way Abijam's distrust radiated through the air, making the moment electric.

"Get away from me," Abijam snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "And stay away from Arieshell."

The churning sea below mirrored the turmoil brewing between them. Henry remained unfazed, his smile unwavering. "Now, now, no need for such hostility. We're all on the same ship, after all. And speaking of hostility," he continued, straightening up and leaning closer, "I've noticed a certain... guardedness about the two of you. A secret, perhaps?"

Abijam took a step back, his eyes darting towards the deck, searching for an escape. "What makes you think we have secrets?" he retorted defensively.

"Oh, come now, Abijam. The air on this ship is thick with them," Henry replied, his eyes locked onto the younger man's face, intrigued. "Your father, Ambudhi, he's a man of the sea. His eyes have seen the darkest depths of the ocean, and I suspect they've seen the darkest depths of your sister's heart as well."