Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 303: Long lost traditions(2)

Chapter 303: Long lost traditions(2)

The usual lively chatter and cheers from the crew dwindled into a tense silence as the minutes stretched. A few exchanged whispers, their voices barely audible over the gentle lapping of waves against the ship's hull was all that could be heard .

Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed up the wooden stairwell, sharp and deliberate. All eyes turned as Darron emerged, guiding a figure behind him.

The woman he brought was striking in her bearing. Her skin was deeply tanned, a sun-kissed bronze that spoke of a life lived in warmer, brighter lands. Long black hair cascaded down her back, though its neat braids were now loosened, disheveled from her captivity. She was clothed in a simple but well-made garment, its elegance dulled by days of rough handling.

This was no ordinary slave. She was the daughter of the very man whose town and palace Blake had stormed—a noblewoman, taken in the chaos of fire and steel. The town had burned, its defenders scattered, and she had been plucked from the wreckage as a prize. Not merely a spoil of conquest but as a wwarming bed, Blake's newest bed slave. 

The woman kept her gaze low, her movements hesitant as she stepped onto the deck. Her hands trembled, clutching the folds of her garment, but she dared not resist. When she finally looked up, it was to meet Blake's piercing eyes, her own filled with dread.

Blake stepped forward, his boots clicking against the planks as the crew parted instinctively to give him space. He stopped before her, looming like a shadow over her smaller frame. His hand shot out, grabbing her firmly by the arm and pulling her upright. She let out a small gasp but did not struggle, her fear rendering her pliant.