"Don't come any closer," the maid said, gripping the mop with both hands as she stepped protectively in front of Elizabeth.
Daniel halted. For a brief moment, he studied the woman standing between him and his target—small, trembling, yet unyielding. Then he inclined his head slightly.
"You have a good maid," he said calmly. "Not many would stand their ground like that."
Before either of them could respond, Daniel's gaze shifted.
His eyes darkened—pitch black—for a single heartbeat.
The maid froze.
Then her strength seemed to leave her all at once. The mop slipped from her fingers as she crumpled to the floor, her body landing softly, as if guided rather than dropped.
Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. "What did you do?!" she cried, rushing forward.
She knelt beside the maid, shaking her shoulders gently, panic rising as there was no response—only slow, steady breathing.
"She just… collapsed," Elizabeth whispered.
She couldn't understand it.
One moment her maid standing, fierce and defiant—and the next, she was unconscious at her feet.
Daniel looked back at her, his expression unchanged. "Nothing permanent," he said evenly. "She'll wake up in a while. I just needed her out of the way."
"You—what do you want?"
"Believe it or not," Daniel cut in calmly, "I'm here to help."
He stepped down from the windowsill.
At the same moment, the man he had brought with him—the prisoner—was suddenly lifted and flung back through the open window. A brief, distant thud echoed from below, followed by a muffled groan.
Elizabeth flinched.
Her gaze snapped from Daniel to the window, then back to him, her mind struggling to keep up.
"You break into my room," she said slowly, forcing her voice to stay steady, "knock out my maid… and throw a man out the window—"
Her eyes hardened.
"—and you expect me to believe you're here to help?"
No one would believe that. Not unless they were foolish, desperate, or terrified beyond reason.
Daniel didn't argue.
"Yep," he said simply.
He stepped closer and raised a finger, pointing directly at the gold medallion resting against her chest.
"Now hand me that locket."
Elizabeth's hand flew to it instinctively.
"You came here for this?" she asked, her voice tight.
Her eyes never left his face.
"You know what—fine," Daniel said, stepping back slightly. "Have it your way. I'll just stand here and let the pirates kidnap you."
Shouts echoed from somewhere down the hallway outside, rough voices overlapping as boots pounded closer—too close.
Daniel folded his arms, unbothered. "Take your time," he added calmly. "They're very polite people." His gaze flicked over her once, deliberate. "I can imagine what pirates would do if they got their hands on a beautiful woman like you."
Elizabeth swallowed hard.
The noise outside grew louder, nearer. She didn't want to imagine it—couldn't afford to.
Her fingers tightened around the medallion, knuckles whitening as panic crept in.
"…Fine," she said at last.
With a sharp tug, she pulled the chain over her head and threw the medallion toward him.
She didn't want to find out what would happen if she waited any longer.
"Here."
Daniel caught it easily.
Daniel turned and nudged the prisoner hard with his foot. "Stand up."
The man flinched and scrambled to his feet, terror written plainly across his face.
Daniel tossed the gold medallion to him. "Put this on," he said flatly. "And when the pirates break through that door, you tell them your father is Bootstrap Bill Turner."
The prisoner stared at him, shaking. "W-what?"
"Say it clearly," Daniel continued, already turning his attention toward the door. "Say it like your life depends on it."
Because it did.
Daniel was certain of one thing—the pirates wouldn't kill him. Not once they heard that name. They needed Turner blood to break the curse. The moment they believed they had found it, they would capture him, not waste him.
Elizabeth watched him, unease crawling up her spine. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing. You'll understand later."
He turned back to the trembling prisoner, his voice dropping—sharp, final.
"And don't think you can lie," Daniel said quietly. "If you do, I'll make sure even death won't save you."
The man swallowed hard and nodded.
Daniel didn't wait for more.
He crossed the room and pulled open the wardrobe.
"Now come and hide in the wardrobe with me," he said.
Elizabeth blinked. "Me?"
"Yes," Daniel replied, "Do you want to stay here when they come?"
There was no time left to argue.
Boots thundered outside—voices raised, wood groaning under impact. Panic snapped her hesitation.
Elizabeth hesitated—just for a breath—then moved, slipping into the wardrobe without another word. Daniel followed immediately, pulling the door shut behind them.
The space was small.
Far too small.
Elizabeth found herself pressed against him, barely able to breathe, her body rigid with tension as the reality of their closeness set in.
She swallowed. "Why are you hiding as well?" she whispered.
Daniel didn't shift, his voice low and steady beside her.
"To watch," he said. "If something goes wrong, I'll have to improvise."
*****
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