Edward rests his side on the brig's railing, arms crossed. "How should I address you?"

"Must you know?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Aye, you're in my ship after all," Edward drops one of his knees to the ground. "So?"

"My name," she starts. If this man knew that Oliver and his father are after her, she'd be in danger. As a pirate, she knows the golden rule: never trust pirates. And he's a pirate.

She is, too, and if she was him, he'd give her up to the navy in exchange for loot or silver. "Is none of your business."

"Hello, Miss None of Your Business. Pleasure," he says in a formal tone. Angelina sighs in irritation.

Finally, Edward grabs a wooden stool and sits on it. He's facing the pirate woman, both his elbows resting on his knees, contemplating. His eyes are gazing far away like he is thinking about something.

Suddenly he snaps his fingers and lets out a curious thought. "Why is a navy man running after you?"

Angelina feels a tremor pass through her. She suddenly refreshes the memory of her ex-lover calling her from across the street, running after them.

She remembers commanding the stranger, who happened to be Edward, to get her away from Oliver. Now Edward remembers, and her panicked feeling arises, clouding her brain from thinking about fool-proof excuses.

Yes, pirates are pressured, too.

"Look," she sighs in defeat, acting as if defeated. Swallowing her ego, for the nth time. "I stole from him."

"Don't we all," chuckles Edward. He stands slowly, straightening his clothes.

"Very well. I must be going. Do you need anything?"

He sighs when she doesn't respond. She's back to her haughtiness again. He stands there for a minute or two, waiting for a reply from the woman—and rushes toward her when he observes that her breathing is heavy and that her eyes are closed.

Her wound is getting worse again. "Blast!"

Edward removes the bloody patch from her chest, working his way to tend it again.

He grabs the nearby medicine supplies and starts attending to the weak woman's needs. "Hold on, miss..."

"Argh! God, it hurts," Angelina hisses in pain, awakening from her quick unconsciousness. "What in the world is happening here?"

"You fell unconscious," replied Edward, still focused on tending her wound. "Be still."

She surprisingly follows. Her breath is ragged, and her tone is pained; it was conspicuous even when she pretended to come out solid and numb.

Steadily and with ease, Edward's palm reaches to her chest. He presses his hand onto her wound that bled earlier. He tilts his head up, so he faces her, "Does it hurt?"

"...yes," she whispers. "Still, it does."

"I'll unchain you," he smiles. "But heaven forbid. I humbly ask of you, don't be too wild."

"I can think of different circumstances."

Edward gazes at Angelina for quite some time, searching for what she had meant, but all he found is an innocent look.

He at her eyes, and down her nose and cheeks, before turning his attention to unchaining her. "As do I."

He frees Angelina from her bonds, and he couldn't help but notice the red marks on her wrists due to the tightness of the ropes and chains.

Deep down, he feels sorry and guilty for her. For some time, he waits, thinking that she might start a duel or a fight with him again, but she doesn't.

All she did was press her palms onto her wound, closing her eyes. Angelina rests her head against the wall, letting out a sigh of relief and comfort. "Now I'm grateful. Take it or leave it."

He chuckles, burying his hands in his side pockets. "You are welcome, miss..."

"If I told you my name is Elizabeth and I'm a runaway bride of a lieutenant, would you believe me?" she asked. Edward observes her face, pretending to contemplate.

"I'd say those are lies," he smiles. "Did I get that correct?"

"How so?"

"Because your name is Angelina El Salazar," he looks up, then down to her.

"And you were once a ship captain. But now you're not because Commodore Stevenson killed your crew and burned your ship by the docks."

Angelina feels like puking. Now she wants nothing but to jump to the sea, away from the man across her.

This is too much. It was too much pride swallowing, too much embarrassment. She didn't have an idea that he might know her name. Who the hell told him her name?

"Pardon?"

"Robert told me."

"Robert?" her eyes widen. "Robert?!"

Edward laughs at her sudden reaction. "You're quite forgetful, too." She almost wanted to just bump her head repeatedly against the wall.

Her memories return only now; that Robert was there when Edward carried her to his ship. And Edward was there as well when her first mate brought her the news about their crew and ship.

For some reason, Angelina giggles, looking down to her feet. She felt ashamed at first, but now she only feels ridiculous but in a good way.

She was astonished; she felt lighter when she laughed. "I feel absurd now, thank you."

"You're welcome, Miss Salazar," he grins. "You do know how to have fun, after all."

"Miss Salazar? Now I feel more absurd," she chuckles. "You're a very formal man, aren't you?"

He bites his lip absent-mindedly, as he always does when he's in deep thought or when observing. "Aye, we just met. It's improper of me to address you in such a personal way."

She shrugs her shoulders in agreement. "Still, I won't call you Captain. Never!"

Edward rolls his eyes. He runs his fingers through his brunette hair, then shakes his head. "How is your wound? I hope 'tisn't throbbing. Tell me if it does."

"It's not," says Angelina. She then looks at him with a hint of worry across her face.

She tried to show a neutral expression, but Edward was undeniably good at reading people's emotions. "What about your hands?"

Edward's brows furrowed in confusion. "My hands?"

"Yes," she motions at his palms. "You literally just felt this strong need to grab my blade with your bare hands, you know. What a fool you are!"

He smiled widely at that specific memory. Indeed, he agreed to himself that it was foolish. "Aye, I've no idea why I did that," he smiles. "I guess we're both reckless, then."

Edward kneels across Angelina, whose face is scrunched up from confusion. He displays both of his palms to her.

"You just had to imprint your memory on my palms for eternity, Miss Salazar." He beams, and she mirrors him.

Edward points at her lips. "You smiled for the third time around. And I thought I was going to call you Captain Spanish-Frown."

"Stop looking at me like that. Are you head-over-heels?" she mocks him; when suddenly a memory of Oliver relishes in her mind.

It was twelve years ago when he rescued her from the navy's attack. She had asked him the same query, of which Edward responded to the same.

"No," he laughs. "But that's not impossible. You look quite exquisite."

She was about to rebuke when he cut her off immediately. "Maybe in another lifetime, I would."

In this lifetime, Oliver did. And Angelina couldn't help but wish to the Gods, if there are any, that Oliver falls for her in a hundred or even a thousand lifetimes.

And in those lifetimes, she wishes not to be a notorious pirate, or Oliver not to be engaged with a woman he doesn't know.

Perhaps in another lifetime, they'd be too perfect for one another; a puzzle with the right exact pieces, without the outside world meddling every now and then. Maybe then she would've said yes to him; perhaps then they would've married and lived by the sea for eternity.

Perhaps then, she could be delighted; and Oliver would be hers, and hers only.

She slightly shakes her head, away from her thoughts. She lets out a mocking smile. "Don't make too many promises, Edward. You never know when I'd sleep with you to discover your secrets."

He snickers and winks. "In that case, you'd have to be that good. I don't give my secrets easily."

"You don't think I'm that good?" she raises an eyebrow. "That's offensive."

"I'm in no position to have my thoughts on that, Miss Salazar," he smiles.

"Pray tell?"