The Princess and The Pirate

Kyle had just enough time to splash water on his face and change out of his destroyed, bloody jacket to his wedding blazer. It was white, gold, silver, and far too ornate for his taste. Who had weddings at sunrise? It sounded great four months ago, but now, he felt his heart in his throat. Fidgeting, he played with the pearl button of his jacket. Everyone was staring at him. Despite being six feet tall, he felt small and wanted to shrink away.

Standing there at the altar, he heard the whispers through the large crowd. Noblewomen, barons, dukes, generals, and all the useless members of the court were there. Maybe they didn’t care about this event, thinking the whole Rocqueburne family was a forsaken hot mess, but it was the social event of the decade. Who would miss the wedding of a living saint? He could hear everything they were whispering as he passed by: Why was his face bleeding? Why were there red stains under his coat? Was that blood dripping down his fingertips? Dragging his gloved hand through his messy hair, he averted his eyes away from the Emperor and his wife who were sitting as the guests of honor in the front.

Kyle wondered if he’d bring up the few Imperial ships that were intercepted on occasion.

Instead, he looked to the priest, who only raised his brows and quickly pretended to look at his bible, flipping a few pages with haste.

Did he look that bad? Nursing his offended ego, Kyle only grumbled to himself. Then he mindlessly yawned, not having had a chance to sleep. This caused even more whispers. This pirate was indecent!

Son of the devil, some said. Especially with the stitches in his face, he looked half monstrous.

Then the trumpets started, scaring his tiredness away. Harps and an entire choir chimed in. Sweet heavenly music filled the chapel as the guests got to their feet and bright, morning light made it through the brilliant stained glass designs of saints and angels. Rays of red, blue, and green light spread across the cathedral as the sun rose with the crowd.

Flutes played airy songs, fluttering their notes, like it was springtime in the holy building.

Jacqueline appeared at the threshold. Her dress was a pale pink with embroidered white leaves. It was a dress that she pulled straight from her closet. In her hands, she held a professional flower arrangement of light blues, greens, and golds, meant to invoke memories of the ocean. It didn’t really go with baby pink, however. As a matter of fact, nothing about their attire matched in any way. The Princess gave a soft smile, her skin still stubbornly dirty in some patches. As she started down the aisle, yellow flower pedals were thrown in time to the tempo of the orchestra.

With a visible limp, Jacqueline leaned on a handmaiden to make it down the annoyingly long stretch of carpet. Who decided to make churches so big? She held her breath seeing Kyle standing in the morning sunshine. Surely, she had imagined he would have left long ago, herself not worth the constant trouble.

The guests sat down as the Emperor gave a soft nod as she passed, although his wife seemed horrified at the disastrous state of the wedding’s details. The colors didn’t match, there was no theme…young people were hopeless these days! The ways of being a proper hostess were simply vanishing with the old!

Kyle reached out and took his princess’s hand, helping her up the few stairs before the flower-covered altar. Two crowns sat there, both on their own opulent satin pillows. They were golden, jeweled, and magnificent. But that wasn’t where their attentions were, although many people had sought such useless pieces of pretty metal.

“I had told you to wear the pink jacket,” Jacqueline whispered, looking down at her own lackluster, underwhelming dress and then back to his warm brown eyes.

“I never, and will never, own a pink thing in my life.” Kyle smiled, whispering back, “Sorry to disappoint you, my queen.”

She just smiled. Despite being a complete disaster, it was perfect.

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist, keen on never letting her go again. Jacqueline brought her hands up, linking them behind his neck. She rested her head against his chest, exhausted.

Even now, Kyle smelled like the ocean and felt like home.

The priest cleared his throat at the uncouthness of it all and hoped to start, eventually, if these two ever got it together.

Smiling, Kyle coyly looked at the priest with an apologetically cheeky grin. “Well, you see, I can’t let her go,” he said loudly to the priest and the crowd of spectators while kissing the top of the Princess’s hair. “She gets into too much trouble on her own.”

The End