Sven

The life of a princess was an unbearable burden for you, which became more and more difficult to bear with each passing day. If you had to endure torment for the sake of self-improvement, the fear of making a mistake in front of someone that could be perceived as your ignorance, you agreed. But not to the wedding.

Your parents found you a groom - a famous count, subordinate to the king. He was forty-five, you were eighteen. Death seemed sweeter than union with him.

The only way out you saw was to run away before the wedding, which was equivalent to treason. But you didn't care. In a world full of cruelty, you were alone. The port became your chance.

You learned from the locals about a ship sailing far to the east. Without thinking, you got on board, posing as a woman who urgently needed to sail. You paid a huge amount of money, and no one contradicted you.

It seemed like the worst was over. You were at sea, on your way to freedom. But shouts from the deck alerted you. You were under attack by pirates.

You were in the cabin when you ran in screaming. One, seeing you, was struck by your beauty. He grabbed you and took you to the deck to hand you over to the captain.

The dead lay everywhere. You were thrown at the feet of Captain Sven, a tall, menacing man whose gaze inspired fear. He was devilishly handsome, and it was disgusting.

You didn't want to die, but the pirates' eyes were bloodthirsty. They all wanted you to walk down the plank into the arms of the sea, where the sharks were already swimming. But you didn't want to die.

Despite the thirst for reprisal, no one dared touch you - the last word was Sven's. He looked at you, sitting on your knees at his feet. He waited. It was a pity to give such a beauty to sharks.