The tales of treachery

NEMONA

Written by: IY
Sometimes I don't know how loud these parties can get.

Every year, I am almost forced to host this gala to mark the end of the Festival of the Sea, a week-long spectacle that celebrates the sea gods. The grand hall that had been the venue for many years was once again being used.

A whole orchestra of musicians sat in a corner, playing lively music, while actors on a stage reenacted the great hero, Lesiod's slaying of the Great World Serpent. The guests sat at tables while servants flew back and forth, serving drinks and dinner.

I sipped on the fresh rum that was just served. My sister, Miranda, sat next to me in her emerald-green sleeveless dress and her wild ginger locks finally tamed, poking the large fish in front of her like it was poisoned.

"Enjoy yourself, dear," I said, attempting a forced smile. For the 10 years I have been queen, every year I had to attend and host this gala where the actors and the musicians did the same thing every single year. It was getting repetitive. The food was different, but for this occasion everything was raw. My sister hated raw food.

"If you're not having that fish I'm havin' it," said my husband, Whitehall, an enormous, bearded man that had somehow wooed me enough to be my groom. He waved his hand to the servant for more fish, despite the stack of pristine plates that he had already eaten.

The actors finished their piece and bowed. The hall burst into thunderous applause as they exited off stage.

The announcer came up to the stage. "Bravo! Bravo! So, next up, for our final performance, we have-"

However, he was suddenly interrupted by a scream, which came from directly next to me. It was Miranda.

"What is it?" I hissed, slightly furious at her cutting off the announcer.

"My necklace!"

My gaze shot towards her neck. Her gold and pearl necklace was strangely, completely missing from her neck. That thing was worth a lot of gold.

My senses heightened as I suddenly saw a small boy dressed in ragged clothes, a sore thumb from the elegantly dressed people at the gala. He was crawling away silently.

Being a woman doesn't mean I'm a stereotypical weak housewife. My hands instantly clasp around Whitehall's flintlock which he carried in his holster. I drew it and fired. A cloud of smoke bellowed out of the weapon as a loud crack filled the air. The urchin froze, and blood shot out of his hand, and Miranda's necklace dropped out of his hand and clattered onto the floor, stained with crimson blood.

He turned around. The boy seemed no older than 16, with dirty blonde hair, wearing ragged, torn garments which were once white, now as grey as the stormed skies. It seemed that he was tougher than I thought. He did not flinch nor cry in pain despite the blood blossoming like a rose out of his hand. He calmly used a pocket-knife to tear off a bit of his already mangled clothing and wrapped it around his wound.

He then got up and got ready to sprint away when he was suddenly surrounded by a dozen pistols pointed to his face.

"What do you think you are doing, boy?!" I hissed at him in anger, reloading my flintlock calmly.

He did not reply, his expression blank, when abruptly he snatched Miranda's necklace off the floor and ran. The sound of a battalion's worth of flintlocks going off filled the air as they all seemed to miss the thief, as he ran for the exit.

Nobody steals from me or my family without ending up in Davy Jones. I drew my cutlass, shook off my high heels which were impractical for running, and bolted after him.

He was fast. Too fast. He swiftly evaded another volley of shots and out of the grand hall into the streets. I yelled for my guards, and instantly a platoon of them gave chase, shouting warnings. I followed them, however, when we reached a crossroad, the filthy thief was nowhere to be seen.

I cursed under my breath, and gave curt orders. "I want more guards to search for the boy, do not return unless you have my sister's necklace. Capeesh?"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" They shouted in unison, and ran off. Miranda soon came running, followed by the angry party guests, weapons all drawn.

"He's gone, that bastard." Before Miranda could say anything, I clamped a hand over her mouth. "You'll be fine. We'll find your necklace." I sometimes forget how stubborn she could be.

"But-"

"Go back to the Palace, OK? Big sis has something to deal with," I said with a forced smile. I was annoyed. I don't know why. It's Miranda's necklace, not mine, but then maybe the gala lowered my spirits.

I started walking back towards the Royal Palace, passing the port in the process. Being a seafaring nation, we had a lot of ports. Port Sylon was one of the most busy ones, filled with ships of every size. A small war frigate was off in the distance patrolling the sea.