The usual lively chatter and cheers from the crew dwindled into a tense silence as the minutes stretched. A few exchanged whispers, their voices barely audible over the gentle lapping of waves against the ship's hull was all that could be heard .
Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed up the wooden stairwell, sharp and deliberate. All eyes turned as Darron emerged, guiding a figure behind him.
The woman he brought was striking in her bearing. Her skin was deeply tanned, a sun-kissed bronze that spoke of a life lived in warmer, brighter lands. Long black hair cascaded down her back, though its neat braids were now loosened, disheveled from her captivity. She was clothed in a simple but well-made garment, its elegance dulled by days of rough handling.
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