Why was he acting like a brother now, only now, after all these years competing against each other followed by all these years apart? They had become strangers to each other. He couldn’t understand why Arthur would suddenly care about his well-being.

He certainly hadn't given a second thought to his brother since he joined Armado. Nothing about Arthur's confession would change that. And yet, something vile began crawling around the pit of Alistair's stomach that he recognized to be guilt, something he thought he had long brushed off his conscience in order to continue doing his job onboard the Madreperla. There was no room for guilt when lives were at stake.

But now those lives were lost. The reality of it sunk in even more, feeding the vileness in Alistair's gut. In his mind, he blamed his brother, but in his heart, he blamed himself.

And now, he knew, he would die for it.

Alistair remained wrapped in the darkness of the British vessel’s belly. As the days dragged on, his black surroundings brought him solace, reminding him that he was alone and that there was no one left to suffer for his actions.

Days and nights were indistinguishable from one another. Alistair couldn’t remember how long it had been since he had seen any natural lighting, but it was better than witnessing the orange blaze of the Madreperla all over again. He could never see a sunset with the same innocent eyes again, and he would sooner kill himself than watch another ship burn.

After having his little taunt at Alistair, Arthur went up to his cabin on the main deck. He climbed out of the darkness of the gallery and entered the sunkissed deck where the day was finally reaching its end. He let out a sigh gazing out at sea where the waters were tinged orange and purple, and the breeze carried the lingering smell of burning wood coated in crisping paint and charred flesh blackened like coal. His soldiers kept busy all around him, staying out of his way. Arthur pouted when he realized he was the only one still rejoicing over their recent victory. His hands on his hips, he kept his gaze set forward, their course set for home.

He sensed more than heard Francis following him at a respectable distance. Arthur turned his head just slightly to glimpse at him. “What?” he frowned.

Life has never been easy for Alistair, even when he lived with his dysfunctional family back in London, but his life certainly became filled with far worse hardships after he turned his back on his country and joined Armado’s pirate crew. Of course, the last thing he expected was to be hunted down by his own brother.

Antonio is a pirate and Lovino is an Italian merchant’s grandson that is tired of living a sedentary life and craves a little adventure. He finds a way to get himself on Antonio’s crew and he discovers an adventure, just as he hoped… It just wasn’t the sort of adventure he was expecting.

When Arthur’s family ventures to the New World, it feels like the end. He’s not quite coming to terms with what’s happening in his life and he is just coasting through, intent on surviving so he could go back home to England as soon as possible.

These plans change when Arthur encounters another boy who, by all intents and purposes, should be considered an enemy. But Arthur just can’t bring himself to properly hate him