The Princess and The Pirate

The royal messenger had been riding hard for days. His horse suffered greatly at the importance of delivering this message.

The road was well traveled but he hadn’t stopped. Through sprawling pines and the rolling hills a large estate grew in the distance. The roof of a large brick mansion crowned the largest of the hills rising from the distant horizon.

McLaughlin Estate was home to the Queen’s closest blood relative, her sister.

He ran the horse right through the archway and pushed whatever energy the horse had left right to the very front steps. The poor mare keeled over, completing her task with a sliding finish.

The messenger leapt off, sprinting his own fatigued body up the stairs.

A servant greeted him first. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked to the poor man out of breath. He held an envelope, sealed with the wax press of the Rocqueburne Crest and rimmed in black. Someone had died.

“I need your…,” he inhaled deeply, “…Mistress. Now!”

The maid scurried off, lifting up her skirts to run. An envelope with black boarders was something worth sweating about.

She returned with the lady of the house, Widow McLaughlin herself. Dressed in greys and even wearing a smoky black shawl to cover the top of her head, she was still a mourner, though her husband had died years ago. What else was there for an old, single woman to do but be a proper widow forever?

The man bowed to the mistress and held out the Queen’s letter. She took it quickly with little emotion on her face, anticipating the death of her sister. Breaking the wax seal with her finger, Widow McLaughlin read the surprisingly short letter.

Her face became pale with shock, but it didn’t last. Her pallor melted away as burning life returned to her veins. Her face filled with heat as excitement struck her like lightning.

“LILLIAN! LILLIAN!” She shouted over her shoulder. The old woman’s voice filled the large, lonely house. “LILLIAN! COME HERE!”

The sound of light footsteps filled the northernmost halls as a gush of blue and black appeared at the very top of the mansion’s winding stairs. Lillian, out of breath, her black hair not even completely brushed and half dressed in a rich ebony and indigo gown, stared down at whatever the panic was.

Even when flustered, Lillian was eerily beautiful. Her skin was as pale as china and her dark, contrasting features gave her a weird, commanding presence in any room. Not many women could be compared to a raven, in both appearance and nature, and take it as a compliment. She could, however, and she took it with dignity and grace.

“Mother! What is it?” The young woman glided down the stairs.

“Your cousin has been murdered!” her mother replied excitedly as she met her daughter at the end of the staircase.

Lillian’s reaction was significantly more subdued than her mother’s. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, but why panic? What could anyone do now? She stared at her mother to see if there was more news.

“We’ve just gotten word from Kathleen that in lieu of this terrible circumstance, they want you to be their stand-in princess.” The elation beamed through the widowed mother’s eyes.

This was all any socialite woman could ever want, to place their children in a place of importance; this was as high as it went!

The news sank in slowly and Lillian’s porcelain face lifted up. She was just as socially hungry as her mother. Jacqueline’s death was far, far from her mind now. Jewels, riches, power, and supreme control filled her imagination. The idea of an army and a navy at her whim made Lillian’s mouth water.

One man’s misfortune was another’s opportunity, and it was all because one black sheep cousin went and got herself killed. It was sweet, sweet survival of the fittest at work. Lillian felt little sympathy for her cousin. With how Jacqueline was, of course she’d get herself killed, sooner rather than later.

In her eyes, Jacqueline didn’t have a self-preservation mechanism.

“We should depart immediately!” her mother nearly shouted at the servants. “Ready the carriage! We’ll leave for Rocqueburne in an hour.”

Lillian was already running back up the stairs. There was so much to pack! Her future awaited!