The Princess and The Pirate

“Well, Princess?” Eustace asked again, keeping his chin on her shoulder and his hands possessively against her stomach. Soon she’d be carrying his child and his right to the throne would be cemented.

Jacqueline was frigid, standing frozen to the spot, looking out into the night. She strained her hearing. The sound of Kyle’s horse was gone. Sliding her eyes to the Regent’s profile, she whined softly. Twisting in his arms, the Princess managed to put her hands against his chest. His fingers curled around her hips, looking thoughtfully down at his guest.

“I…I don’t know,” she replied. His smile faded to a stern scowl. “I mean, this is so sudden. In light of all the events…” Jacqueline turned her brow upwards, pushing against him.

He had to understand!

Eustace’s tone changed, seeming out of place to the soft nod he gave her. The Regent released her hips and instead grabbed her upper arm, dragging Jacqueline away from the doorway. “Oh yes, my lady, I understand. You must be exhausted from the day. Time in the wild has made you a bit forgetful of gratitude.” He made the Princess keep up with his long stride as he brought her to the stairs. “Certainly such a big decision shouldn’t be left to impulse.”

Jacqueline gasped, his grip hurting her arm. “B-but, m’lord…”

“Nurse, see she gets a good night’s rest.” He gave her over to the tiny woman who took her by the wrist.

“Bu—” Jacqueline tried protesting, but the help spoke over the Princess, “My Grace, come up to bed. We’ve fresh sheets.”

Her eyes burned into the Regent’s. He watched the women climb the stairs. Linking his arms behind his back, Eustace bowed softly. “We’ll reconvene over breakfast, I’m sure.” His voice was haunting, eerily unsettling, and utterly gentlemanly. “Pleasant dreams.”

Dragged up the stairs, Jacqueline tried pulling her arm from the nurse, “That’s quite enough!” It was only free for a second before being snatched up again.

“I treat you roughly, for he would treat you rougher,” snapped the woman with no apology in her voice.

In the bedroom, the Princess huffed, regaining her balance. All the activity made her ribs ache and she winced, sitting on the bed, trying to breathe slower.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes,” and the nurse made her stand, regardless of comfort. Brutishly removed from her dress, Jacqueline looked thrashed standing in a simple white under-layer. When the lady finally stopped, the Princess backed up, sick of being thrown around. Looking at the vanity, she found no sharp objects. Everything was either near weightless, fragile, or smoothly curved. The shelves were bare. Nothing had a drawer. There was nowhere to hide anything.

“Shouldn’t I have a new nightgown?” New clothing often meant the occasional stray pin was left behind.

“The master is having a whole wardrobe fitted for you. I apologize for the discomfort. Tonight, what you have, is what we will work with.” So there was no further changing.

There was absolutely nothing dangerous in this room.

The nurse was digging into her bag, pulling out a small box. “These will help you get your beauty sleep,” she said, shaking the thing and rattling the pills within.

“I need no aids,” Jacqueline piped up, waving her hand at the nurse.

“These are the best from the Orient, I assure you! You’ll get a better sleep, especially within a strange new place. These old houses make such sounds.” The nurse tried reassuring her, closing the gap between herself and the Princess, holding the pill in one hand and a small water skin in the other. “It will make things easier.”

Where was she going to go? Nearly pushed against the bed, Jacqueline took the pill. A bit horrified, she put it on her tongue with a smile, taking the water skin.

There was a knock at the door and the nurse let out an annoyed sigh. She turned for a moment to the door and yelled “Who is it?”

Jacqueline quickly took the bitter medicine out of her mouth, deftly sticking the damp pill on the inside collar of her nightgown.

“Dinner for the mistress,” came a voice from the other side.

The nurse looked back and Jacqueline was drinking a healthy dose from the canteen. “She’s preparing for sleep. Take it away.” The Princess’s brow tilted up. She was so hungry, but the food was removed, soft footsteps taking it away.

Frowning, she put the water skin down and stretched, giving a fake yawn, scooting herself onto the bed.

The nurse was satisfied with the show. Smiling, she sat herself in the chair while taking out her knitting. “Soon, my dear, this evening will be a thing of the past, and tomorrow you’ll concern yourself with wedding color schemes.”

Highly doubting it, the Princess crawled under the sheets, turning away from the wicked woman. Looking out the window, Jacqueline saw the edge of the moon peaking in at her. A great flower garden gleamed outside before a flat field. The stars sparkled through the sheer curtains, but she felt incredibly alone. Jacqueline curled around a pillow, digging her face into it, muffling a sniffle.

She must have dozed off, because it felt like an exaggerated blink.

The room was dark when she opened her eyes. Slowly, quietly, she lifted her head up. The nurse was slumped over in the chair, asleep and snoring, still holding her knitting in her hands.

Creeping out of the bed, Jacqueline shuffled stealthily across the carpet. She took shy steps towards the door, believing everything was making unnecessarily loud sounds. Unlatching the door handle, she quietly pulled it open, slipping into the brightly lit hallway.

Clicking it closed, keeping her hand against the seam of the door, the Princess exhaled. Alone in the hallway, she looked towards the Regent’s study. Last time, she noted some papers there. Having been given zero answers, or outright lies, Jacqueline wanted to see for herself. If they were nothing, at least she was proactive in finding out anything.

No one was here to protect her, so she’d have to do it herself.

Stepping lightly down the hallway, the hem of her outfit fluttering around her calves, Jacqueline continued to look over her shoulder. On the pirate ship, the dangers were apparent and what to fear was easily identifiable. Here, nothing was blatant. Coming to the large doors, she listened intently.

There was no sound.

Slowly opening it, she peeked inside. No one. The fire within was diminished to brightly glowing embers. Giving the hallway one final look, she scooted inside, closing the door behind her.

But it popped slightly, leaving a crack open to the outside.

Navigating in the dark, Jacqueline slid her hands against the furniture. Large wooden curves and fine detail work guided her along mammoth bookshelves. From the shelves, she was led to heavy curtains. Pushing one side open, she let the evening’s moonlight into the room. Full and radiant, it cast everything in a soft white light, making the mounted heads look exceptionally ugly. Turning back to her task, she found Eustace’s desk.

The desk was covered in papers, reminding her of her own father’s workstation—trade agreements, levies, taxes, uneventful notices about running land, and controlling the lives of people.

Getting frustrated, Jacqueline came around to the other side. She pawed through drawers and files, snooping wherever she could. Financial records, land deeds, sealed documents, an invitation to Lillian’s coronation that was nearly a week ago, scraps…

Freezing, Jacqueline went back. She slowly pulled the long, formal piece of paper from the pile. It was on Rocqueburne’s letterhead.

“Friends, Family, Countrymen, Please honour us with your presence as we accept Lillian McLaughlin of Westwood into the Rocqueburne lineage as Princess. With so much recent sadness, let us rejoice. The pirate scourge cannot destroy our spirit, for we are the unbroken. With war in the future, let us celebrate this short time of peace.

God Save the King.

It was signed by her father and sealed with his ring.

Lillian? She hadn’t thought about her cousin in years! Looking over the document again, she fought back angry tears. They crowned a new princess? Could they even do that?! She wasn’t even dead! A burning sensation built up in the Princess’s nose. Anger, sadness, and questions all pushed just under her skin, demanding her attention.

There had been no rescue. There hadn’t even been an attempt. She was quite swiftly replaced. And war? War with whom? And why?!

…Why hadn’t they saved her? Didn’t they love her?

A creak from the floor made her look up. She quickly crammed the invitation into its drawer. Jacqueline side stepped away from the desk. There was nowhere to hide. It was as if this castle had been designed to keep people exposed.

“M’lady?” came a familiar voice. Eustace.

Jacqueline crushed down her feelings of betrayal and outrage, wishing for a moment or two of ignorance to get through this.

“Oh! My lord! I hadn’t…How embarrassing,” she started turning around to look at him. In the moonlight she looked otherworldly. Her freckles were washed away. She had large grey eyes, brighter in the direct, pure light. Her long, curling hair was highlighted with silver stardust. “I’m not even dressed.”

He just smiled, the moonlight making his features look soft and trusting. Eustace shut the door behind him, completely. “You look fine. What are you doing in here, turtledove?” he asked calmly, walking indirectly towards the Princess.

Jacqueline played with the end of her finger, thinking. “I…wanted to know a bit more about my future husband, that’s all.” It physically pained her to say it. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” Of course she did!

Letting her words sink in he kept his smile, slowly reaching out and wrapping his fingers around her wrist. “You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you? Hard to pin down. I’ve some wolf fur restraints for such a person,” Eustace spoke quietly, never letting his smile leave. The Regent then raised his voice. “I don’t know what these dusty ol’ books could tell you. Most are for show, really.”

The Princess suppressed a squeak and gave a nervous laugh. “L-let me make you a drink, please,” she stammered, looking back at his liquor cabinet.

“I’ll never say no to a pretty servant girl,” he said as he let her go, walking over to the fireplace. Grabbing the iron poker, he hit it in his hands, gave a curious glance over his shoulder at Jacqueline, and then jabbed the end into the ash.

Servant girl? With a scowl, she turned away to the cabinet.

“I think I can get some life out of these embers,” he called out.

“Well that’s good,” she replied. It was just polite conversation. She uncorked the scotch, pouring a generous amount. Then, Jacqueline pried the half-dissolved sleeping pill from her collar. Dropping it into the drink, she gave it a brisk stir with her finger.

Cutting across the room, when she had his attention, the Princess licked the booze from her skin, wrapping her lips along the length of her finger, seemingly absentmindedly.

Ick… Her face twisted slightly at the horrible taste, but it was distracting enough as the pill completely dissolved.

“My, aren’t you precious,” Eustace said darkly, taking the drink and poking the fire with his other hand. “Luxurious portion! Girl, are you trying to get me drunk at two in the morning?”

“I, uh, like men with a drink in their hand.” That sounded incredibly stupid, Jacqueline reflected.

The fire popped back up, weak flames resurrecting from the hearth.

“And I like women in white cotton nightgowns. Seems like we enjoy each other’s company.” The Regent motioned over to his chair, taking a drink of his alcohol. Just as the Princess went to sit in her own seat, he grabbed her elbow, shaking his head.

“No need for that.” Sipping again, Eustace pulled Jacqueline over to him. He sat the Princess in his lap, wrapping his hand around her hip, “I’m happy to hear you’ve accepted my proposal.”

Blushing, she was uncomfortable on his legs. “Shouldn’t we have supervision? I’m highly indecent.”

Sliding his hand across her back, the Regent pulled on what she was wearing, just slightly snaring the fabric between his nails. “I’m a grown man, I do not need babysitters,” he replied, taking another drink.

“But—” Jacqueline started, but he interrupted her. She could see this becoming a trend. “When we rule together, we’ll do away with such formalities as escorts and nosy supervision. My girl, put your legs over the arm of the chair. Relax against me, be comfortable.”

Doing away with guardianship didn’t seem in anyone’s best interest who wished for anything but privacy with Eustace Reginald. Jacqueline looked at the arm of the chair and sighed softly, turning. She was anything but comfortable. Putting her calves atop one arm, and her lower back against the other, she snuggled herself between the chair’s structure and the Regent.

He only grinned, feeling the young woman grind against his pelvis as she moved. “Good girl. You can take orders. I like that,” he growled as he petted her hair. He yawned with a glossy look in his eyes.

“Weddings are such a womanly thing. When do you want to be married, poppet?” Eustace asked, his hot, wretched breath washing over her neck. His hand slid down her curls as he gently guided the tips of his fingers over her clothed breast.

Jacqueline grabbed his hand, softly but firmly, stopping his exploration. “Proper weddings take months, nay, years, to plan, m’lord.”

“Years?” he pouted, pulling his hand from hers, draping his arm across her cotton covered thighs. He took another sip, the drink nearly gone. “No, no, my dear, we can be married tomorrow, if I so choose.” He planted a soft kiss on the side of her cheek.

Her flesh was just barely visible through the fabric.

Having indulged him long enough, the Princess tried to get up, but the Regent anchored her to the spot.

“Where are you off to?” Eustace asked, not looking up from her chest. His free hand, coming against her knee, played with the frills at the end of her skirt, creeping upwards along the soft pale skin of her thigh. He yawned against her breast, then kissed it again. “Princess, I don’t think I could wait years for your sweet virginity. Even minutes are agonizing, my wife.”

He put the empty glass down, his other hand coming to the neckline of her dress, pulling at it, shamelessly wanting what was underneath.

Jacqueline wore a bright red blush in her cheeks, for many reasons. He’d be sorely disappointed if he knew the truth, but his groping hands also caused her a great deal of embarrassment.

Jacqueline protested. “Really, Sire, we should save it for the wedding night,” she said, grabbing his rising hand again. “It’s proper.” She more assuredly rejected his advance in her words, squirming in his lap for escape.

Suddenly, like a switch being flipped, the Regent shot up, flinging the Princess from her seat. Shouting at the unpleasant surprise, she crawled backwards away from the chair, clutching the expensive rug underneath. Towering over Jacqueline in the dim firelight, Eustace pointed down at the frightened girl. “You deny me because of antiquated formalities? ME? The man who saved your life?!”

He was offended, so utterly insulted. Heaving and puffing, the drunken man gripped his hands into fists. The look within his eye said he was going to hurt her. “Me?! The man who pulled you from the wilderness! And you’re concerned with custom?! Your legs should open first, just as a thank you! And then, if I marry you, that’s the privilege! NOT the other way around, you shrew!”

Thinking fast, Jacqueline slunk towards him slowly. “S-sir, sir…hush.” She wrapped her hands around the back of his legs while staying on her knees, pressing her chest against his legs. “All I meant was," the Princess trembled slightly, looking up at the man who was both drunk and drugged, “to keep our relationship pure, beyond the reproach of those who would question it.”

He snorted, looking down at her.

“S-so we could rule together in peace,” she finished, massaging the length of her fingers into the back of his legs. “It’s so hard to not completely throw myself upon my… hero, b-but sacrifices must be made f-for the moment.” Hero? How laughable.

The view of the Princess submissive before him would tide Eustace over until fantasies were no longer enough. He yawned, the anger disappearing as fast as it had come, the enraged look in his eyes disappearing.

Bending down, he dragged Jacqueline up his front, feeling her dress rake against him. Tightly holding her chin hard between his fingers, Eustace wanted her undivided attention.

The stench of scotch on his breath was nearly suffocating. “You had better get some sleep, Princess.” He kissed her lips. No tradition would stop him from having that. The Regent then threw the Princess away, done with her.

Stumbling, Jacqueline backed towards the door as he watched her. He was always watching.

“You forgot,” he yawned heavily, “to curtsy to your king.” Eustace stumbled back to his chair, uneasy on his feet.

“Forgive me,” and Jacqueline kneeled, holding the sides of her nightdress open.

Darkness took the room, the very last of the embers dying within the fireplace.

Calmly leaving the study, she clicked the door closed, making sure the Regent was sealed away behind the heavy wood. Once it was closed, she covered her mouth to keep a muffled shriek tightly locked behind her hand.

How was it possible, to want one man’s hands upon her, and be utterly repulsed by another? The Regent and Kyle had literally brokered a deal, selling her as easily as goods or livestock. Tears filled her eyes as she walked down the hall, angry, depressed, and not seeming to have a friend in the entire world. Not her family, not her countrymen, not Kyle, no one.