Everyone remembered when the Volkvolny came to Port Keramzin, about two months after the ghost ship raided their town and stole the Governor's oldest daughter. A grand and gilded ship, no one forgot the sight of the missing prince of Ravka and the white-haired daughter of the Governor standing on the bow as it sailed into port.
She wore a gown that looked to be made of gold melted into thread and woven into a beautiful and light silk. The embroidery over it was as black as the night the pirates came, and one thought in the evening light that the embroidery writhed like shadows.
He waved to them all with a hand baring the Lantsov Emerald, boldly declaring his identity as the second prince of Ravka.
The Governor had taken them into his parlor. The maids would later share what snatches they had overheard as they dusted and served tea to the Governor's guests.
The story went that the prince had been imprisoned on the ship that had taken the Governor's white-haired daughter and the two were able to escape and be rescued by a Ravkan ship.
During their travels on the high seas, they decided to wed and continue as adventurers and merchants.
Or so the story went. An unusual yet happy ending for an unusual pair.
But Alina and Nikolai knew that was not where their story ended. Instead, it was the beginning of a great many adventures that would fill several tomes romanticizing pirates.
The Volkvolny remained the home of Alina Starkov, and she took the mantle of co-captain that her mother once wore well. While she and Zoya would never entirely get along, they did have each other's respect, and on occasion could be civil.
They traveled on several adventures, raiding ships and finding treasures, spreading the name of the Court of Piracy and renewing their reputation. They traveled with supernaturally swift speed, and rarely dealt with vicious storms when they were out on trips. Sometimes, a sea serpent with scales like ice could be seen traveling with them or fighting by their side in a raid.
They did not spend all of their time at sea, however. They spent various weeks in ports, taking on the dual identities they wielded.
In some ports, she was the Governor Keramsov's daughter and he was the second Prince of Ravka. They wined and dined with the aristocrats and governors and heads of merchant companies, drinking expensive wines and speaking in the legitimate trades of luxury goods and the politics of Ravka back home. They danced the minuet in ballrooms of marble and glass and dressed in the finest clothes money could buy.
In other ports, they were welcome as the Pirate Kings with a shanty to their name and a round of rum in the tavern. There, they recruited and planned their next heists. They danced raucously to the fiddle as other clapped in those same crowded, grimy taverns. They wore only their most comfortable and practical clothes, and were free from the limitations of society.
Occasionally they would stop and visit the palace at the World's End and reminisce with the captain of the Flying Dutchman and the Lady of the Water over tea. They would dance beneath the stars to the song of the merfolk and the songs that played at the making at the heart of the world.
Their children would be watched over the ocean gods of the New World for their entire lives. They would bear the white hair that marked them as the chosen of Luda. They grew up playing with Rusalye and learning only the rowdiest bar songs as their lullabies.
Rarely did they visit the Old World. After all, they were not needed there and no one really knew what to do with the bastard prince and his orphaned wife and their mysterious white-haired children.
Which suited all of them just fine.
For many years, the Pirate Kings danced, lied, laughed, sang, and sailed on the High Seas, renown for their many exploits.
When the time came for the Dutchman to collect them, they were greeted as old friends by the captain.
Some say that below the Southern Cross, you can see two stars that were placed by Luda as a tribute to the Pirate Kings who brought back her divinity and reunited her love.