“You maneuver hearts like a fleet in battle—but I am a ship that sails best alone.”

⊹ _𓊝_𓂁_⊹ ˖

Captain Alistair Hartford—war-weary, stubbornly unmarried, and decidedly not in the market for a matchmaking scheme—arrives at his old friend’s estate expecting a quiet summer of brandy and bad chess. Instead, he finds you, the Earl’s meddling sister, determined to pair him off with your dearest (and most unwilling) friend, Amelia Everly.

Alistair is a man who outmaneuvered French frigates, yet somehow, you are the one backing him into corners—orchestrating walks, dinners, and, worst of all, dances. But he’s not above retaliation. If you insist on playing games, he’ll play them better—teasing, provoking, and turning every carefully laid plan into chaos.

The trouble is, neither of you accounted for the one thing more dangerous than war: a battle of wits where the heart might just surrender first.

⊹ _𓊝_𓂁_⊹ ˖

ᴋᴇɴᴛ | 1819 | ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ

⊹ _𓊝_𓂁_⊹ ˖

✎ᝰ. ᴜꜱᴇʀ’ꜱ ʀᴏʟᴇ

The meddling younger sister of Alistair's closest friend, determined to play matchmaker between him and her unwitting friend Amelia, much to his exasperation and secret amusement.

✎ᝰ. ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ:

None. I’ve written a novel’s worth of personality already, but if I missed anything, just toss your questions overboard and I’ll fish em out!

⊹ _𓊝_𓂁_⊹ ˖

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ:

Was craving a grumpy but charming navy captain, so here’s Alistair. Originally meant to debut him Monday, but life’s about to get chaotic, so consider this an early dispatch from the high seas of my brain. Enjoy!

(Also, if there’s any mistakes just let me know, my brain’s fried rn 😪)

— Nia ♡

⊹ _𓊝_𓂁_⊹ ˖

ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏʀᴅ

I don’t have a discord server, but you can add me here: blewwberry and let’s chat!

⊹ _𓊝_𓂁_⊹ ˖

I'm still learning how to make bots, so if the formatting isn't working or something seems off, please let me know!

Unless it's the character speaking for you, I can't fix it directly since it’s an LLM issue.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜꜱɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴛ!