After Jack fainted, my father decided it would be best if he left—not just because someone else could stumble on deck, but also because he wanted to get back to Wales. He promised he would tell my mother and sisters everything was alright and reminded me it was imperative that I make sure the Sword of Cortes gets taken to Tia Dalma lest it fall into the wrong hands. Then, after a quick hug, he disappeared into the waves.

Barely a few minutes passed between my father's leaving and Jack's stirring. Kneeling down beside him, I set my hand on his shoulder and looked at him with some concern. "You alright, mate?" I asked him.

He grunted, raising a hand to his forehead. "I had the weirdest dream, Drystan," he mumbled.

"That I told you my dad was a god of the sea and he proved it by showing you his divine form?"

His brows furrowed and he glanced up at me, though he didn't lift his head. "…Then it wasn't a dream."

"I'm afraid it wasn't." Releasing his shoulder, I moved to sit beside him. "I'm sorry you had to find out like that."

He was silent for some minutes, a look of surprisingly deep contemplation on his face. "So…you're a half-god," he finally stated.

"Yes."

Turning his head towards me, he cocked his brow. "That was you the other night, wasn't it? Durin' the storm. You were makin' things calmer around the boat."

"Yes, that was me," I admitted with a small, sheepish grin. "I was lucky I was able to calm them as much as I did, given that I was having to fight against both Torrents' magic and my own lack of skill."

He gave me a bit of a bland look. "You left me feelin' like a lunatic, you know. Thinkin' the ocean wasn't acting right…" Shaking his head, he then chuckled, showing that he didn't harbor any ill feelings towards me. "What all can you do, then? Magic-wise, I mean."

"At the moment? Not very much because I'm still learning," I answered. I brought one of my knees up and draped an arm over it. "Right now, I can breathe underwater and I can sense magic as well as the depth o' the ocean. I can also tell when storms are coming. Eventually, I'll be able to control the ocean." Tilting my head back, I looked up at the stars.

Jack copied me, looking up as he brought a knee to his chest. "Just the ocean, though? Not the weather?"

"Just the ocean."

"…Well, that's not very helpful then, now is it? Can't even make a fair wind to give us a wee bit o' a boost t' our speed!" He laughed when I pouted and lightly smacked his arm. "I'm just jokin', mate. Powers like yours means that you'll be able t' control the currents, which will be enough t' speed us up."

"I'll be able to make them, too," I said with a small chuckle. "I've already got a bit of a handle on them—the doldrums the other night gave me a good excuse to practice."

He lightly shook his head. "You know, given that you're a half-god, I would have expected you t' naturally be a master o' your powers."

"I only found out a couple of years ago that I had magic, let alone the fact that I was a demigod."

"But…you're a demigod. You were born with magic, aye? So why didn't you know?"

I shrugged. "From what I understand, it's something about the magic lying dormant until it senses that a person's body and mind are strong enough to handle it." From the corner of my eye, I glanced at him only to see confusion on his face. "Think about it this way: If I had full use of my powers as a wee tyke, one temper tantrum could have wiped out the entirety of Holyhead."

His nose scrunched up slightly and a look of distaste came to his face. "Ah, that does make sense…" Then, turning to look at me again, he asked, "But did you know what you were before your powers woke up?"

"No. I wasn't told in order to keep me humble—same for my sister, Tabitha. She's got different powers than me, but until they woke up, she was oblivious to the truth."

"Makes sense, I suppose…How did you find out you had magic, though?"

I let out a small laugh and looked back up at the stars. "It happened during the first storm I sailed through while in my uncle's employ," I began, "and it was a nasty storm at that. I fell overboard and, when I was fighting to get back to the ship, I realized I was actually breathing while underwater and that swimming was much easier than it should be, given how badly the ocean was churning. I told my uncle about it and he said that it wasn't his place to explain things to me, but to ask my mother about it. In turn, she told me to go ask Llŷr, who I wasn't aware was a god—she told me to take Tabbi, too, since it would involve her as well."

Jack nodded slowly, his eyes closed as he absorbed the words I was saying. "What sort o' powers did your sister get?"

"I'm not entirely sure what all she's got, since she was only just discovering them around the time I left again. I do know she's got healing powers, though."

"Well, that's mighty handy," he chuckled. "Should have brought her with you—then you can be sure you'll survive any fights you get into."

I quietly laughed, my brow rising. "Depending on how our adventure goes, that may be something I discuss with her."

After that, we both fell quiet for some time. Around us, the waves gently lapped against the hull of the boat; in combination with the Barnacle's gentle rocking, it was almost enough to put me to sleep. But, knowing that I still had another three hours of watch left, I forced myself to stay awake.

I wasn't quite sure how much time had passed, but Jack was, once again, the one who broke the silence. "You know, for a lass, you're quite good at bein' a lad."

I felt my stomach drop in a mixture of shock and dread. His lack of reaction when my father had used my real name earlier had led me to (wrongfully) think that Jack either hadn't heard it or had thought 'Emilianna' was one of my sisters. As I found out, though, that hadn't been the case.

When I failed to reply right away, Jack cracked open an eye and glanced at me. "I'm not goin' t' tell anyone," he assured me. "I know lasses need t' take precautions when they decide t' take up a seafarin' life—especially if they take the piratical route. An' since you didn't have a crew o' gentlemen t' protect you like 'Bella has, I don't blame you for keepin' it a secret."

A small sigh of relief left my mouth. "Thank you. I've been thinking about telling Arabella, but…I don't know. It was strange enough, having to tell Tremaine I was a lass."

"You told Tremaine?" he asked with a snort. "Why? Did she try t' come on t' ye an' you had t' shoot her down?"

"Not even close," I said with a snort of my own. "She demanded to see the bruise I had gotten during a sparring match. Since it was on my thigh, I had to drop my trousers; that made me a bit nervous, so she assured me that she'd seen plenty of cocks in her life, one more wasn't going to affect her. When I told her I didn't have one, she didn't quite believe me—until I dropped my trousers to show her the bruise, that is. At that point, she hiked my shirt up to make sure I wasn't lying."

By that point, Jack was struggling to contain his laughter. "She must've been disappointed by that sight," he teased. "Perfect chance for her t' get into the trousers o' a handsome young bloke an' he turns out t' be a she!"

I rolled my eyes, but was chuckling myself. "Now, now—for all we know, she may be into men and women, but I just wasn't her type."

"That is true," he agreed with a snort. Lightly shaking his head, he changed his position so that he had his back on the deck and his legs up against the bulwark. "So, Emilianna, now that I know 'Emil' is your sobriquet, is 'Drystan' a false name as well? Or is that somethin' you'd rather keep secret?"

Sighing quietly, I looked back up at the stars. "Well, you already know two of my three biggest secrets," I said, "so I may as well let you in on the third. 'Drystan' is actually the name of my late uncle—I took it as my false surname in his honor, since he was the one who was willing to help me become a sailor…and because I didn't want to soil my mother and sisters' names should it ever be found out I'm actually a woman."

"What's your real name, then?" Though I couldn't see it, I knew Jack was watching my facial expressions.

I quietly chuckled. "Do you want the one I was born with or the one I actually like?"

"Let's go with both."

Rolling my eyes, I lightly shook my head and let out another chuckle; I should have known he would have said both. "Then I'll start with the one I like: 'Emilianna ferch Llŷr'—or, when I'm a lad, 'Emil ap Llŷr'." Knowing the Welsh words might confuse him, I added, "It just means 'daughter of' and 'son of', respectively."

"Ahh. Makes sense. An' the one—or ones—you don't like?"

Rubbing the side of my neck, I sighed as I felt my stomach churn slightly. "Lady Emilianna Traharne."

Jack paused, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Lady Emilianna Traharne?" he repeated, though judging by how quietly he said it, he meant to say it more to himself.

"Yes. My mother is a countess."

He bolted upright now, his eyes wide as he gawked at me. "You're a noble?!" he gasped, struggling to keep his voice down. When I sheepishly nodded, he threw his hands out, gesturing at me. "Why?!" he loudly whispered. I appreciated how, despite his shock, he was still trying to keep quiet. "Why would a noble want to be a sailor, let alone a pirate!? You could be back at your home, havin' a life o' luxury!"

Admittedly, his reaction took me a bit by surprise; when Fitzy had told us his reasoning for wanting to run away to sea, Jack had mocked him. But with me, he seemed to be genuinely shocked. "I could, but I belong out on the sea," I responded. "I've never felt more at home than when I'm out on the sea, surrounded by water. Not to mention, I get to meet so many different sorts of people. When I'm on land, having to be Lady Traharne, I can really only associate myself with other nobles, lest I risk tarnishing the family name—not that my stepfather didn't tarnish it enough—but when I'm Emil Drystan? I can speak with anyone I want without fear."

"…Well, that answer is a hell o' a lot more honest than Fitzy's," he said after a moment. "An' a lot less arrogant, too."

I let out a soft laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought his reasoning for going to sea was arrogant." I watched him lay back down and put his hands behind his head. "I've been messing with him a bit," I then said. "You know, since he thinks I'm a commoner like you and Arabella."

"Oh?"

"Mhm. Occasionally, I'll say something that pertains to the lives of nobles or mention some bit of literature that would be common study for children of aristocrats…Or even speaking a bit of Latin around him."

Jack snorted. "Do you think he's caught on yet?"

"I doubt it. I don't much look or act the part of a noble anymore—not since I've let my skin get tan and I don't speak like a noble."

"I don't know 'bout that one, Drystan—Compared t' me an' Bella, you sound quite sophisticated."

As I cleared my throat, I reached into the inner pocket of my vest and pulled out a fan I had taken from Stone-Eyed Sam's hoard. Flicking it open, I began to fan myself before beginning to speak with an upper-class accent and using a much more feminine pitch. "I will have you know, Jack Sparrow, that the way we nobles speak is more ornate and far more suitable to be heard by the ears of the aristocracy. As my late stepfather was fond of claiming, it is not as harsh to the ears as the speech of common folk, nor is it as uneducated," I said. "However, as I have expressed to the late Earl Traharne, I find the speech we nobles use to be quite haughty and overly complicated. For example, it has taken me twice the amount of words to say 'It makes us sound like pompous asses' than it would have otherwise." As I finished speaking, I cheekily grinned down at him.

The whole time I had been talking, Jack had been quietly snickering in an attempt to not interrupt me. "If I didn't believe you were a noble before, I certainly believe it now," he said. "How did you do that? Switchin' between a male voice an' female voice so easily, I mean."

"Years of practice," I explained, my voice back to normal. "See, my voice isn't normally that high pitched and feminine—Most of the time, I'm actually speaking in my normal voice, which is sort of androgynous to begin with. But when I want to pass off as a bit more masculine—" I dropped my voice down an octave or two, "—then I merely adjust accordingly and there you have it."

He shook his head—well, he shook it as best he could in the position he was in. "You have t' be using some sort o' magic," he said with a small laugh.

I shrugged, continuing to fan myself. "To be honest, I don't know if I am or not, but I do know that whatever it is, it's mighty helpful. My youngest sister, Cornelia, laments the fact that I didn't go into theater. She thinks I would have made for a wonderful actor."

"Can't say that I disagree with her, mate. I know a lot o' folks an' I think I can count on one hand the amount o' them that can change their voice like you."

"Whether it's magic or not, it does take a fair bit of practice to get right," I said, "and I can't even keep the deeper voice up for very long. The feminine one, though, I can use for hours, so long as I had something to drink at hand to keep my throat from going hoarse." My nose scrunched up slightly as I remembered the days when I had to wear women's clothing to attend balls or fancy dinner parties. I honestly don't mind wearing corsets and dresses and the like—in fact, I rather enjoy strutting around in women's clothing—but being forced to wear them was an entirely different story.

"Huh. I would have expected it t' be the opposite." He turned his head to look at me only to snicker when he saw that I was still fanning myself. "Growing up, did you have t' always be Emilianna or were you allowed t' be Emil at times?" I found the way he phrased the question amusing—as if I wasn't both people, regardless of how I felt at the time.

"Most of the time, I was Emilianna," I explained. "I wasn't allowed to be Emil when going to balls, visiting relatives, or when we hosted parties." I then paused, my brows furrowing slightly. "My stepfather actually forbade me from being Emil. But whenever he was away—which, thankfully, was quite often—my mother let me run around in my trousers and corset-less."

Jack snorted. "She let you run around without a corset, o' all things? How horrifyingly scandalous!"

"Oh, I know. When they found out, my sisters were absolutely mortified for all of five minutes." Shaking my head, I quietly laughed.

He laughed as well, his brow rising as he turned his head to look at me. "I think you should let 'Bella know," he said after a moment. "Poor thing's stuck on a ship with what she thinks are five blokes. The only other lass she has t' talk to just so happens t' be stuck in the body o' a wretched cat an' tries t' kill anyone who isn't Jean or Tumen."

I snorted. "That's very true…that, and I know how awkward it can be to receive advice from a supposed man about womanly problems." I cringed slightly at the memory of my uncle loaning me a pair of black trousers when I had my first cycle while out at sea. Luckily, the rest of the crew hadn't thought anything of it, since I had gotten tar on my other pair.

"An' frankly, should such a problem arise, I don't know enough 'bout women t' be o' any help," Jack chuckled. He then paused, his humor fading away only to be replaced by one of disappointment. "In fact, I don't actually know much about women at all, now that I think o' it. Aside from how t' flatter an' flirt with them, that is."

"Both of which are important things to know," I assured him with a laugh. "You never know when you'll need to charm your way into a woman's good graces."