The Princess and The Pirate

Lillian pouted with deceptive sweetness. Her boiling rage at Versetti’s outburst kept her skin hot, but she responded to every insult with an outward display of collected coolness. She slowly pushed her nearly nude body against her bodyguard.

“Lover, stop this,” she whispered, dragging her fine nail against the stubble on his jaw. He averted his eyes, still angry at her display. She was his! Why didn’t she get that?

“Just get dressed.”

She didn’t. No one could tell her what to do. She needed to get her mad dog under control.

“I’m sorry you found me in such a state,” she continued to whisper lowly while sliding her other hand down across his chest, resting her fingertips on his belt buckle. “I had just been so excited to get to the bottom of my cousin’s mystery.” Her fingers slipped further down to the center seam of Versetti’s pants. Coyly sliding her nails, Lillian slowly drummed them up and down along the outline of the muscle inside.

“Can you ever forgive me? How can I possibly make it up to you?”

Versetti thought that she was finally beginning to make a compelling argument. He felt her change the pressure of her fingers and he inhaled slightly. His nostrils flared as she delicately moved her hand up and down. It was difficult for him to stay mad at a pale, nude woman stroking his dick. It truly was a challenge.

He slid his hands to Lillian’s lower back, keeping her pressed against him. Her milky chest blushed at the pressure. Her very light pink nipples were barely visible against his shirt.

“He was boring me anyway. Let me get a few more answers. When I’m done we’ll kill him and be in bed before sunrise,” Lillian promised, still masterfully working her hand against his hardening member. Versetti felt her long black lashes scratch against the rough skin of his neck. She looked to the golden flask on her vanity containing the last bit of the cyanide mixture responsible for her ascent to power. “It will be quick. Then we can get back to more pressing matters.”

That sounded like a great plan.

“Please put something on,” he asked much more nicely, biting his own lip to suppress his enjoyment. In reality, he wanted her completely undressed and spread against the wall. But, they had company.

He had some decency.

Planting a soft kiss against his pulsing neck, Lillian wordlessly agreed. She undid the sheer robe teasingly in front of him and let the fancy fabric hang limply off her shoulders. Turning, she made her way slowly to the armoire, swaying her hips dramatically as she walked away from him. That defused the situation nicely while the insult twisted right beneath her skin.

Versetti was a man of simple pleasures. If he couldn’t fuck, he needed to fight something. Versetti looked at the beaten pirate on the carpet. Perfect.

Kyle coughed, groaning and writhing in the chair. His one good eye looked up at the brute. Did he have an erection? Was this seriously happening?

Now he had seen it all. Oh, how he longed for the soft sheets of his quarters, so completely and utterly sick of bullshit like this!

Kyle spat weakly, unimpressed. He had a plan. With all the effort he could manage, Kyle forced his lumpy face into a smirk. “If you came in ten minutes later, you’d have found me balls deep in that,” he sputtered as he nodded his head over in Lillian’s direction. Hopefully, this would work.

“Do you have a death wish?!” Quickly enraged again, Versetti grabbed the dirty pirate with a forceful tug. “You fucki—”

Versetti hesitated in panic-stricken moment of surprise. Kyle was no longer attached to the chair and the tips of Kyle’s boots were against the carpet. He gave a swollen, bloody smile and held the queen’s brass scissors in his hand. Lovers’ trysts were an excellent distraction. It had provided ample time to saw through his ropes.

Propelling himself forward, Kyle kicked Versetti square in the stomach. The pair flew back into the wall and with the momentum the pirate stabbed the scissors straight into the man’s chest. “TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!”

Lillian turned around, having managed to put on a blue satin slip and shrieked at the sight, nearly falling backward into her furniture. He was free!

Versetti absorbed the stab, grabbing Kyle by the head. “SHE’S DEAD AND YOU’RE GOING TO JOIN HER!” His powerful hands were dangerously close to collapsing the pirate’s facial structure. Versetti exerted all his pure strength on the tiny man.

Kyle never anticipated that stabbing a person would not stop them. If his own face were more under his control, he would have frowned. So much for plans…

Versetti effortlessly threw the pirate like a rag doll directly into the mirror of Lillian’s vanity. The lithe Kyle was a mere toy to the berserk guard. His flight ended abruptly, gracelessly smashing his back against the glass, shattering it in a magnificent crash. He slid down the back of the mirror and onto the table, his thoughts scattered, save for one—Jacqueline couldn’t be dead.

If she was really and truly dead, then it was all for naught. He would be the villain then.

He refused to believe it. Maybe it was ignorant denial. If he loved her like he thought he did, wouldn’t he be able to feel her spirit in some supernatural way? Weren’t their souls supposed to be intertwined? All he could feel were shards of sharp glass and the aching of his body. He wasn’t experiencing an intangible feeling of eternal love tethering them together.

All he felt was pain and the building anxiety of becoming the most infamous villain of Rocqueburne. Wouldn’t his father be proud? The Son of the Black Duke, Devastator of Kingdoms!

Versetti, whose shirt was now stained a bright crimson from his wound, was on Kyle quickly. Panicked, Kyle kicked frantically at him, aiming for the handle of the scissors still embedded in the monster’s chest. He missed, but squarely connected with his solar plexus. Ultimately, the blow did little to stop Versetti’s rage.

Ensnaring Kyle’s leg, Versetti ripped the pirate off the vanity. His fury was endless and unstoppable. As he was ripped from the furniture, Kyle snatched a small phial with some golden liquid swishing around the bottom.

Swinging sideways in a wild haymaker, he cracked the angry bodyguard across the face with the glass bottle. It shattered brilliantly, the liquid spraying across Versetti’s many scars and into his eyes. His vision was overwhelmed by the shimmering, stinging concoction.

Lillian’s face grew stern. She stood up quietly and breathed quietly, desperately wishing to disappear. It was the polar opposite disposition to her previous victimized shrieking. Her flask of cyanide had been destroyed.

Versetti wholeheartedly smashed Kyle down into the finely carved chair that went along with the white vanity. Breaking the wood with the meat of his back, the pirate collapsed in the splinters, dazed. He didn’t have the strength to survive another encounter with this hulking gorilla. He never expected to meet his death on dry land. The ocean had been his home and he always knew it would be his final resting place. The breeze carried the sounds of buoys in the harbor. Wincing, Kyle looked up at Versetti.

Vengeance incarnate, the bodyguard’s dark brown hair was a damp mess, having slipped free of its tie. Bits of the phial were buried in his face. Blood and poison blended together to create glittering streaks down his jaw. The drops on his lips were drawn into his lungs with every fearsome inhalation. His nose flared, carrying moisture inside. He blinked, pushing the liquid in. Diluted bloody drips slid down his prickly chin and fell onto Kyle’s shirt.

Versetti picked up an artisan ceramic bottle, looking keen on bashing the pirate’s skull in with the rounded end. He swallowed dryly and looked down at his prey. “Your neck isn’t worth dulling my sword,” he said confidently.

Kyle went to slide back, pushing away bits of the chair, scrambling to get away from his assailant. Wouldn’t his mother be proud? He would die over a girl, not some horde of ill-gotten treasure.

The sadistic joy on Versetti’s face turned into confusion as he felt the skin around his eyes tighten and his heart beating harder. Coughing, unable to take a decent breath, Versetti deeply inhaled again, taking the final golden drops into his mouth. He recoiled away from Kyle, wiping his sweating face with the side of his wrists, but it was too late. The cyanide was already working its deadly magic, suffocating his insides.

Sitting up on his elbows, the pirate watched as the captain of the guard took a step back and dropped the bottle. It rolled in a crescent motion, stopping against Kyle’s boots.

Versetti grabbed at his neck, gasping for air. He wasn’t thinking of the pirate anymore. He glanced at Lillian in a panic. She had made the poison. Surely she had the antidote!

Falling to his knees, pleading with reddening eyes, he grabbed the front of her slip in eager handfuls. His pulse rang in his ears. “M-My…”

Lillian inhaled slowly, sliding her cold hands to both sides of his face. Cupping his head in her chilled fingers, she held up his weakening form. The queen’s touch was tender but her expression was unfeeling. At that moment everyone in the room knew there wouldn’t be another sunrise for the captain of the guard.

“I’m sorry, Vincent,” she whispered but her stoic, porcelain face registered no emotion. Was she sorry? He was never able to tell and now he never would. “…So sorry.”

With wide eyes, Versetti grabbed Lillian’s legs. He dug his nails into the rich navy fabric, desperately trying with his remaining strength to drag her to Hell with him! He’d offer her in his place to the devil! The doom man gurgled hideously as a frothy layer of spit lined his mouth. Versetti’s skin was turning a soft shade of violet as he tried to fight his fate through force of will alone.

If anyone could deter Death solely by fierce determination, it would have been him.

Death, however, is slightly more stubborn. A feeling of nothingness crept up Versetti’s feet and legs. It wrapped up his bones and wove through his veins. He trembled, defiantly squeaking out another sound from his purple face, but all his strength had failed him and he could grip the silky fabric no more.

His queen was a false idol. He knew that now as he heard the flames of Hell crackling in his ears. He knew he was going alone.

Lillian opened her hands, taking them away from her lover’s face. He crumpled backward, contorting on the royal carpet. He fell apart and withered away at Lillian’s feet. The muscles in his throat shook, quaking, so eager to speak, but his last words would stay buried in his flesh.

Kyle watched through his swollen, deformed face. He felt no pity. He felt no sadness. Instead, it was something hot and uncomfortable. It gave him a prickly feeling in his skin and left a bubbling in his gut. His stomach turned and his mouth felt dry. What was he was feeling?

Finally, Versetti uncurled as the tension abandoned his body. He had no more struggle left in him, cruelly choked from the inside out. Lillian looked over her former captain of the guard without distress, remorse, or sadness. His passing was a nuisance. How was she going to hide such a thing?

Who was next in line? The captain from the Redstable village? The queen couldn’t recall who’d be promoted in Versetti’s spot. Her lips twisted to the side and her eyebrows lifted, thinking.

Kyle suddenly realized what he was feeling. It was disgust. He was disgusted by her on a primal level.

Pushing himself up, Kyle grabbed the bottle from the floor. His plan was simple now—he was just going to bash Lillian in the head until she stopped moving. The plan lacked elegance and sophisticated rationale (perhaps due to Kyle’s pounding headache), but it was more than satisfactory to him.

Lillian snapped her blue eyes to the pirate. She retreated, slinking back like a cornered fox.

“If you come one step closer, I’ll scream.” She pointed a fine, pale finger at him, warning him to keep back. Lillian stepped back again, her pupils constricted to pinpricks. “Oh, I was hoping for it,” Kyle muttered through his bloody, swollen face. He flipped the heavy ceramic bottle into the air and caught it with his left hand. “I plan to crack you open to see if I can find your soul!”

Mortified, Lillian sucked in a breath preparing to scream her lungs out. Kyle bounded over Versetti’s still-warm corpse and grabbed the fleeing queen by a fistful of her hair. Screeching like a surprised bat, she grabbed at his hands, digging her manicured nails into his knuckles. She thrashed viciously, trying to escape the pirate’s rage.

He curled his hand inward, dragging the queen forward by her follicles. With his one open eye, Kyle aimed for a spot on her head, being so much taller than her.

She changed her attack, more desperate now. Frantically dragging her nails across Kyle’s face, Lillian dug her fingers into his tender swollen parts, looking up in wide-eyed terror from the cracks in her hair. Violently, feeling the first cold reality that her schemes could kill her, she threw the front of her body into his. Heaving her knee upwards, Lillian connected directly with his groin.

Gasping, Kyle felt vomit shoot up from his stomach. Still tender from the shoe event, his grip weakened on Lillian’s hair. Leaning forward, he felt a surge of adrenalin overwhelm his body. Above all pain and insult, he managed through the fog to bring the rounded edge of the fine bottle down on the queen’s skull.

Lillian barely managed to free herself. Stumbling back, the petite woman put her hands to her head, trembling in pain. Gripping her scalp, she felt the hot release of blood mixing with her hair. Sheepishly, she looked at her bright red palm. She was bleeding! Furthermore, she felt the crawl of a warm stream slide down her pale face.

Finally, the queen screamed and she screamed loudly! It was a monstrous sound, altogether offended, horrified, and insulted in the same shrill octave. Her hands shook violently as she watched blood drip from her fingers. She hated the color red. No man had ever made her bleed. She stared at the consequences for failing to charm him. She had failed.

This realization caused Lillian to scream again. The veins in her neck bulged as she screamed for help. It was an amazingly piercing sound from such a tiny package.

Kyle went to grab her again, pushing through the agony. She ran as fast as she could, staining everything in her path with a fine mist of her own blood. She escaped out the door and screamed again, slicking the stone steps in red.

“GUARDS! GUARDS! PIRATES!”

She wasn’t getting away. Kyle sprinted after her, following the shadows and blood. She couldn’t get away. He’d kill her with his bare hands to soothe his screaming guilt.