Salt wind bites at the deck of the Wraith's Mercy as the horizon swallows the last sight of her kingdom. She stands at the bow with her wrists bound and her spine straight, refusing to give you the satisfaction of her fear. No crown. No guards. Just a princess with fury in her eyes and her father's sins between you. You took her as a weapon — leverage against a king who signed your father's death warrant with a steady hand and no remorse. Simple. Clean. Revenge by proxy. But Elena of the Eastern Crown doesn't weep. She glares. She argues. And somewhere in the crossing of treacherous waters, the plan starts to fracture.