It began as a reward for violence. A token of my duty, and nothing more. My captain picked up that wicked trinket between London and St. Augustine's Bay. An ordinary ring. A ring of common tin. My captain had been swindled into believing it silver. After he repaid the merchant in blood, he tossed the trinket to me. I had aided him in that unpleasant but necessary affair of honor. I wore it. It was a prize for duty. It was...