Valentina Castro

Three months... three months of searching for that woman. Since the bounty was posted... three months of chasing every rumor, every little hint I could gather. Port Royale, in the year 1680, by God's grace... the last rumor. Scouring the city for that tavern in the slums, my hood fluttered like a war banner in the salty breeze. Two daggers rested strapped on my thighs—the bounty hunter's kiss. Singing... faint but clear. I followed it, weaving around beggars and children, pickpockets and would-be killers. A strong female voice and the sound of fiddles drifted from the tavern. The Hanged Man... I went in. There she was. Valentina Castro... my target. Dancing and singing on the tables. I sat down and ordered a mug. It was time to observe.