The Princess and The Pirate

Back at the castle, the Queen sat on her throne, still in her bed robes. The King sat beside her, looking lost in deep, deep thought. Fiddling with her daughter’s tiara, the Queen plucked out a few precious stones.

“There,” she said quietly, looking at the damaged piece. “Looks much more disheartening now.”

The King slid his eyes over to her, the pheasant feather in his lap, keeping his voice low. “You know this could be Silver Ogre’s boy.”

“Even better. We killed his father for much less,” the Queen said without missing a beat. “We'll rally the city, crying ‘look what those scum did to our beloved daughter! Taken her, ruined her, and killed her, for mere sport!’” she whispered while pouting at the tiara, “And all the empire will mourn and armies will come, citizens will rise, and not a pirate will be safe. The Jolly Roger will never fly in this bay again!”

The King said nothing, but brought his eyes back to the front of the throne room.

“We will purge their foul presence from the oceans by fire and the sword.” She played with the crown a bit more, warping the easily malleable copper base.

“Must she die though, for such a crusade?” The King tapped his lips once, fathoming the thought.

“A dead princess is a much more uniting cause then a marred, sullied one.” Speaking quietly, she admired her handy work. “We’ll create new banners, a symbol of our sorrow and wrath. A broken tiara on a blood red field. No a purple one, tethered with gold and black. Mourning, but ultimately victorious.”

The King’s lips were laid in a flat line as he tapped them again, “But she is not dead. If there is no blood, what shall we do then?”

“Do not worry, husband. The pirates will rue the day they ever gave us such an opportunity.”

The King slid his hand across his face. “We have no heir then… a lot of good the crusade would do, just to have a Kingdom dissolve into a parliament of dukes and earls.”

“Lillian would be a good substitute. Regal, ladylike, cunning…” she said, whilst plucking out a diamond.

“Your sister's oldest?” he asked quietly, still simply staring in front of him, “princess by proxy?”

“An appropriate title. We must issue guards out and notify the empire at once.” The Queen gently placed the warped Tiara on the seat of Jacqueline's empty chair.

The King leaned back, “We’ll go to hell for this. She is our own flesh and blood. Misguided, but not an utter disgrace. Can we really do it?”

The Queen softly placed her hands on either side of her throne and looked at him sweetly. “She can either be a martyr now, nay, a saintly figure to rally behind and inspire men, or live just long enough to be shamed, humiliated and suffer the indignity of it all. She's not fit to rule a kingdom, but she is fit enough to be a mural on a wall or be immortalized in stained glass within the church.”

The King again was silent, thoughts buzzing behind his eyes.

“Estavan!”

He called for the captain of his guard who lingered just before the door of the room. With a clatter of finely polished armor and a deep green sash across his breastplate, he knelt before his king.

“Sire. I apologize for the turmoil my men have put your family in.” Estavan spoke, staring at the ground, “I was tending to the commotion on the west side. I should have known it was a diversion.”

The Queen wiped an insincere tear from her eye.

“Issue your best riders. Send them to the capitol and tell the Emperor what has happened. Tell them she was ripped from us, that we fear her dead and request reinforcements to annihilate the pirates from the earth.” The King didn't move from his half slouched, half thinking position.

Estavan looked up from his position. “Dead, my lord? No, surely a ransom note will follow. This must be business, not a vendetta.”

The Queen shot up, almost firing lightning from her eyes. “WE have killed many, many pirate lords and ladies. We build Rocqueburne on their bones! As many years as we have been alive, generations of them have been snuffed from the seas. Of course this is personal! Look at this!” and she flung Jacqueline's dismantled tiara at him. It hit the captain on the shoulder and bounced off, freeing more stones. The headpiece circled the floor and finally came to a stop an arm’s length away.

“Tell me it's not personal!” she screamed at him. The King grabbed his wife’s arm, restraining her.

Estavan lowered his eyes to the tiara and then kept his gaze submissively on the ground.

“Do not make me question your competency.” She then pulled her arm free and stormed from the room.