𝓘𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓪

Chapter 2 ~ Prisoner

    "Now this ship," My father flips through the pages of a personal notebook, "Is The Treasure. It won't ever dock at Solaris, so this might be the only picture you see of the beast, but I'd rather you know than be caught unawares, yeah?"

    I sit on a small cushion on the floor, listening to my father prattle on about royal customs, battle strategies, and everything else a sixteen year old girl finds extremely uninteresting.

    "Yeah..." I say, voice trailing off as I trace the sketch of the ship, I flip through the next couple of pages, which are comprised of six 'wanted' signs. They are all young, I notice with interest, older than me, but still unusually young for pirates.

    "Father," I ask quietly, crossing my legs and flipping back to the sketch of the ship, "What's so bad about this one anyways? It looks like just a bunch of boys..."

    "Ah," my father rumbles, "this ship has been the reason for the destruction of fifteen navy ships."

    "Fifteen!?" I screech, gaping at my father with an open mouth.

    "Yes," He sighs wearily, "They are boys Maeve, I don't know how they do it, but they've killed hundreds of my men, stolen enough coin to run a city, and somehow not gotten caught... I need you to know Maeve, if you ever see this ship, I want you to run. Run as far away as you can, the captain of that ship seems to have a bloody vendetta against the royal family and all its branches, I need you to promise me ok?"

    I give him a slow nod, committing the image of the ship to memory, "Yes father, I swear that I will never, ever get close to this ship if I see it."

    My father ruffles my hair and stands up with a grin, "perfect, now I have a stratagem meeting to attend, I will see you at dinner."

    "See you at dinner father." I sigh, my gaze lingering on the looming pirate ship as I close the notebook and head to sword practice.

~~~~~

    I awake with a gasp, body jerking up into a sitting position as I try and make sense of my surroundings. My head is pounding, and I find it incredibly hard to focus my eyes, I blink rapidly in an attempt to see.

    Did the bastards drug me? I curse inwardly, feeling lightheaded and somewhat dizzy. I also notice a dull ache in my shoulder, the shoulder I totally dislocated last night. Rolling it slowly, I wince at the soreness of the joint. It could be worse though, I noted—with confusion—that someone must've popped the joint back into place, or else I'd be in a hell of a lot more pain than I am currently. After a minute or so, my eyes eventually focus enough for me to observe my surroundings.

    I'm in a prison cell.

    Well shit. My eyes rake over the small room, lit only by a flickering gas lamp that lies outside the bars of my cell. It was an average prison cell, or at least average to whatever image I held in my mind prior, I've never actually been in a prison cell before, I note with waning interest. What surprises me about this room is not the size, however, but the cleanliness of it. I sit atop a small bed, it's wood frame gives a faint creak with the rocking of the boat, but I note that not only is that mattress rather comfortable, but the blanket piled at my feet is a down comforter.

    Ok what the fuck is this? I sit bewildered, unable to comprehend how the prison of a pirate ship is so...nice... for a lack of a better word. The floor of the room is a rich mahogany wood, so are the walls, likely matching with the rest of the ship, and there isn't much else in the room besides a small porcelain bowl in the right backhand corner of the room.