Twenty-two-year-old Natalia Romanov could remember the day as if it had happened yesterday. Fourteen years ago, when Nat was just eight years-old, her parents were wrongfully accused of treason and the whole Romanov family, including anyone related, was sentenced to death by order of King Joseph.

Awaiting her time to end, Nat watched with growing horror as one by one each Romanov relation from eldest to youngest was executed. She felt numb as she watched the guards lead her mother away to her demise. As she brushed away indignant tears that had trickled down her face, she felt a timid tug on her dress from behind. Turning, she was met with a rather small, frail looking boy around her age with unruly blonde hair, releasing his slight grip on her dress, he raised a finger to his lips and held out a cloak the color of his brilliant ocean blue eyes; he indicated for Nat to slip on the garment and quietly follow him.

Heart pounding and pulse racing, Nat gripped the boy’s hand tightly as they snuck out unnoticed and swiftly headed towards the huge merchant ships docked down at the crowded port where gentle waves lapped at the sides of each ship.

Crouched down behind several large crates near the docks, the boy struggling to catch his breath persuaded Nat to stow away onto one of the merchant ships about to leave the port; he informed her not to return for quite some time until the whole ordeal had been blown over and but forgotten.

Turning to the boy, Nat reached forward and embraced him whilst whispering her thanks. Startled, the boy hesitated before patting her back awkwardly. Pulling away, Nat kept the tears that burned her eyes and threatened to fall at bay while a brief smile ghosted her lips before a determined look settled on her features. Cautiously peeking around the stack of boxes, she saw a clear opening for her to sneak aboard. She turned back towards where the boy was crouched behind her only to find no one there but a piece of folded paper.

Quickly glancing around, Nat picked up the paper and unfolded it. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes settled on the beautiful sketch of her solemn gaze with the words inked below in beautiful cursive script, Until We Meet Again. Folding the paper and tucking it into her apron pocket, Nat snuck aboard the ship and thus began her life at sea.

For several years, life with the merchants was serene, but when Nat turned sixteen bad luck seemed to strike them at every turn, until finally it all ended when pirates overtook the ship. Only Nat was saved alive because of her wits and quick thinking, disguising herself as a gentleman and bearing the name Nathaniel Rushman, Nat negotiated with her captors and soon earned her keep as one of them.

It didn’t take Nat much time at all to learn the ways of a pirate and soon became the youngest female pirate captain to sail the seven seas. Aboard her magnificent ship, The Black Widow, Nat and her crew of loyal companions prowled the vast ocean, preying upon the innocent.

Fueled by the anger, resentment and pure hatred for King Joseph she had kept bottled up inside her for years, Nat mainly plundered ships sailing the royal flag. She’d taunt the opposing captains before claiming their lives with a swift plunge of her feared sword, she’d strip the ship of anything valuable and loot the precious cargo, always sparing a few shipmates lives to return to their king with word of Nat’s plundering. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with, but another summer’s evening would yet again change the course of Nat’s life.

Upon boarding a simple merchants ship, Nat was met by opposition of an unlikely figure, a rather frail-looking young man wielded a sword and attempted to halt Nat in her pirating. Staring into his brilliant ocean blue eyes burning with deficiency, Nat was struck by a sense of familiarity.

Trying to use Nat’s dumbfoundedness to his advantage, the young man attempted to attack her while she was taken aback, but Nat easily parried his blow away and with one quick maneuver had the man pinned to the deck, her deadly sword lightly touching his chest. The captain and crew of the merchant ship had drawn their weapons during the exchange, upon which Nat’s first mate confirmed that the man she had taken down was none other than the crown prince, Steven Rogers.

Struggling to keep her wrath hidden, Nat threatened the opposing crew to drop their weapons and surrender or say goodbye to their prince. Reluctantly they threw their swords down by her feet and surrendered to their fate. Having concocted a malicious plan, Nat took only the prince and the opposing captain, James Barnes, as her prisoners, and mercifully let the rest of the crew live with a message to take straight back to their king:

If you truly love your son, you will come in search for him yourself and pay a great price, your life for his. If you choose not to save your own flesh and blood, the Rogers family line will end with him. I’ll be waiting.

The days following were filled with relentless strife and quarrels between Nat and Steve, and yet Nat began to develop feelings for the proud and stubborn prince. Confused and irritated with these unfamiliar developing feelings, Nat concealed her growing attraction towards Steve and instead continued to squabble with him.

As the days slowly drifted into weeks and weeks to months, Steve’s ever present illness continued to worsen and eventually confined him to bed. Soon after, James privately approached Nat and explained to her where they had been headed before she’d interfered, he told her about the tales of a beautiful mythical island shrouded in magic where a mysterious doctor could heal anyone and anything, if Steve didn’t make it there soon, James feared that the next few days would surely be Steve’s last. Feeling torn between letting Steve go or keeping him, Nat wrestled with the decision for the rest of the day.

Later in the evening, she stepped down into Steve’s cabin and worriedly watched as he slept restlessly with labored breath. Nat replaced the damp cloth on his fevered brow with a fresh one and straightened his blankets. As she stepped away, she heard a muffled thud on the floor, looking down she saw Steve’s journal near her feet. Reaching down to pick it up, Nat stopped short as she stared at the pages the journal had opened to, her unmistakable figure was inked on the worn pages and a beautiful flowing cursive script underneath had Nat unknowingly hold her breath as she brought the journal closer to the dim flickering candlelight, something about the handwriting was strangely familiar… could it be?

With trembling hands, Nat reached into the breast pocket of her coat and slowly pulled out the folded paper, worn and tattered from age and salty sea waters, that she was given over fourteen years ago. With bated breath, she unfolded the paper and gently placed it next to the open journal. Although his handwriting had improved over the years, it was still the same flowing script and the similarities between the sketches were uncanny. Steve was undoubtedly the little boy who had rescued her from an inevitable demise all those years ago.