“The map was legitimate! There’s a chest buried here!”

Sir Terence Witherspoon and his young assistant Jerome hefted the heavy wooden chest from the hole they’d dug. A few smacks with a hammer knocked off the rusted padlock and revealed the glittering contents of jewels rarely seen anywhere but a royal family.

“A miraculous find indeed,” Witherspoon said. “A dazzling display for the museum, wouldn’t you say?”

“Definitely something to draw in crowds.” Jerome brushed his fingers through the jewels. It seemed all gemstones, no coinage. The only gold was a crown on top studded with dark gemstones. Jerome picked it up and lifted it over his head.

“Good lord, Gerome, wait!” Witherspoon snatched the crown. “By jove, I do believe we may have found more than treasure. This crown matches the description of the Princess of Pirates!”

“The handwriting on the map seemed consistent with that,” Jerome said.

“Yes, but don’t you know the legend of this crown, old boy? They say it’s cursed.” He gave a grumbling cough. ‘Of course, I don’t believe in such nonsense, but, ah, better safe than sorry, right?” He looked at his reflection in the gold, which somehow remained untarnished despite the seawater. “Still, the legends say she wasn’t always a princess . . .”

Whoops and laughter and yars trailed from the ship as the pirates of yore dug through the treasure they’d just pillaged.

“A tremendous victory today, lads! Ye should be proud, men.”

The captain stepped around the treasure, twirling a crown on one finger. His shirt and pants and jacket had so many rips that it was mostly held together on hopes. Enough filth caked his body that he could contaminate the whole sea if he fell in, and the smell would need the whole sea to wash it out. None of his crew minded, of course—they all looked worse. He pulled on his scraggly beard, as he watched them.

“Enjoy the treasure, boys. I’m gonna go hang up this little number in me cabin.”

The captain brought the crown to his private quarters. He had a hook near his tattered bed to hang such royal treasures, but he stopped in front of a grimy mirror and grinned his disheveled teeth. He placed the crown atop his greasy head.

“Blah blah, royal decree, har har.” He snickered. He hated royalty—

He shouted as something wet slipped over his eyes and gripped his head. He grabbed what felt like tentacles, like a big squid he fought once, but softer, and they seemed to come from the crown? He pushed up but oh dear stars what is this body the crown seemed stuck stop doing that, we must stop doing that. We must fix this.

Hues swirled in the captain’s darkened vision like when he drank too much rum. He stumbled back and sat on his bed. He must have overexerted himself, that was it. Dehydration is dangerous out on the seas.

Don’t worry, we’ll fix everything.

The captain’s head felt heavy. What was it they said? Heavy was the head that wore the crown? He chuckled at the thought. He tried to remove the crown again but found a jungle of hair where it used to be so thin. His shoulders felt heavy as if something drizzled onto them, and he let his arms fall. His chest felt tight as if something bound it.

Thoughts sluggish.

We’ll be so much better soon.

So much better. Everything was going to be fine, be so much better. The captain’s shoulders felt puffy, arms felt tight as silk slithered down to encase the hands.

The loose shirt felt so much tighter now, it actually felt whole. The jacket dropped away, pushed aside by—tentacles? We won’t need this old rubbish. We have better style. Curling around and around the torso as if knitting something new, discarding tattered pants, silken fabric flowing down.

Body changing. Soft soap and lotion squeezing over the skin. Lighter. Svelte. Looser body, tighter clothes.

Vision returned, and the captain, now standing, looked in the mirror.

She was gorgeous. We are gorgeous. Her skin had never looked so soft, so glowing. Her lips could plant a kiss covering someone’s whole cheek, and her hair had gone from a grimy brown to a dazzling blonde halfway down her back. Her clothing had transformed to a long gown to her feet, neckline high and covering every inch of skin as long gloves now covered her arms up to the puffy shoulders.

She sneered at the disheveled state of the cabin.

She picked up a sword hanging from the wall.

She would have to bring the ship up to code.

“At attention, men!” She shouted as she threw open the doors to the cabin. The crew jumped from the treasure and stood straight before slumping, as if reacting to the words before reality. They gawked at the figure who stamped onto the deck like she was a meteorite.

“Who’s this lass?”

“What’s she doing with the captain’s sword, then?”

“Did he capture her from the ship and not tell us?”

“I said at attention!” she snapped, pointing the sword at them. The crew stood at attention before slumping again.

“Eh, who do you think you are giving orders?”

“We are your captain, and you are a pack of bilge rats who will clean this ship from stern to bow or you’ll be cleaning yourself at the bottom of the sea!”

Most of the crew stood to attention. This wasn’t the type of voice you disobeyed. One man stepped forward and yanked out his sword.

“You ain’t the captain, and I ain’t taking orders from the likes of you!” He charged at the captain.

She stepped aside as he charged past, swung her sword around him, ripped through his clothes, twirled them around the sword like pasta, and flung them off the ship into the sea.

“Into the sea with you, ya trash not fit for the gulls!”

The man turned to her and stared, stammering before he shouted and lunged at her. She spun around, kicked him in the booty, and sent him stumbling off the edge of the ship to the sea below. She glared at the rest of the crew.

“Anyone else dare to mutiny against your captain?”

No one dared. Before the day ended the ship sparkled.

From that day the new Princess of Pirates transformed her crew from hulking monsters to a lean and polished machine. They learned manners, they learned grace, and the ratty ship was transformed into a galleon the likes of which might make a royal navy envious.

They had plenty of treasure to pay for the transformation.

They made plenty more as they continues to steal and pillage. At first the crews of the ships they boarded looked on with confusion at this dazzling dressed beauty of a captain, but anyone who stood in her way found their clothes removed, if they were lucky. Unlucky foes found their guts removed, always without a speck or scratch on the princess.

She became quite the celebrity, in fact. News spread. Royalty taking cruises on the high seas waited with bated breath to see if they’d have a chance to meet the sparkling princess of the sea. Those who didn’t invited her to royal balls just for the chance they could brag to their friends the Princess of Pirates had robbed them.

Eventually the pirate fortress she built outshone many royal castles with its glitz and glamour.

That crown never left her head. No matter how many duels she entangled herself in, no matter how many ships she boarded and fought off an entire crew with her grace and style, her flowing dress never took a single cut.

Some folks said they saw tentacles writhing in her hair on occasion, but such rumors didn’t befit such a stunning personage.

We truly made an excellent princess and an excellent captain.

“So you see, my boy, If this really is the Princess’ crown,” Witherspoon said, “we’d best not wear it, lest we fall to the same change that befell that captain.”

“I know all that,” Jerome said. They held out their hands. “Now give it here. My doctor won’t approve me for HRT. This is my best shot at transitioning.”