crown to cutlass (pirate au) || DNF

❥4| clandestine

Two weeks had passed, and the day of the masquerade ball had arrived. George's large manor was alive with activity, servants bustling about, ensuring everything was prepared for the grand event. Important guests from all over were arriving, but none held more weight than the king, Philza, and his son, the prince, Technoblade. George had been preparing for this day for weeks, but now, with mere hours until the event, he found himself pacing restlessly in his study.

The room was dimly lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through the thick curtains, casting long shadows across the dark wood paneling. The air was filled with the faint smell of wax and old parchment, mingling with the scent of burning incense from a nearby brazier. George's steps were measured, but his mind raced as his shoes tapped softly against the polished floor, echoing in the quiet room. His thoughts weren't just focused on the ball, though—it was Dream, still lurking in the back of his mind, a nagging presence he couldn't shake.

Niki sat at his desk, calm and collected as she sorted through the last of the details. A feathered quill rested between her fingers as she checked through a long list on a piece of parchment. Every so often, she'd scratch down a note or cross off a task, methodical in her work, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Everything is almost ready, George," Niki said softly, glancing up from her work. Her voice was soothing, a steady anchor in the chaos of his mind. "The ball will go perfectly."

George barely registered her words, his thoughts distant. "I'm not worried about the ball," he muttered, more to himself than to Niki. His hand absentmindedly ran through his hair as he continued to pace. "It's everything else."

Niki raised an eyebrow and set the quill down, watching George closely. "You've been on edge all morning. What's really bothering you?"

George hesitated. He stopped pacing for a moment, his eyes flicking over to the window that overlooked the town. In the distance, he could see the grand gates that separated the wealthy from the rest of the people, the streets already bustling with carriages and noblemen arriving for the evening's festivities. But his gaze wandered further—toward the harbor, toward the sea.

"Dream," he said after a long pause, his voice low. "He's been quiet for two weeks, and it's making me uneasy."

Niki sighed, standing from the desk and walking over to him. "He hasn't shown his face since the last encounter, George. Maybe he's moved on."

George scoffed, shaking his head. "Dream doesn't just move on. He's planning something; I can feel it." He ran a hand over his face, frustration bubbling to the surface. "And with the king and prince arriving tonight, I can't afford any surprises."

Niki placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "The manor is secure. We've doubled the guards, and everyone's been briefed. Nothing will go wrong tonight."

George nodded, but the unease didn't fade. He glanced over at the long list on the desk, noting the names of the guests. There were a few high-profile visitors from other towns, but none as significant as the king and his son. Philza, though known for his wisdom and calm demeanour, commanded respect with a mere glance. And Technoblade—the prince, the legend—was even more daunting. George had only met him a few times, but he had heard enough stories to know Technoblade was not someone to be trifled with.

"I don't think Dream cares about security," George said quietly, his eyes fixed on the list. "If he wants something, he'll find a way."

Sensing the tension in George's voice and the weight of his words, Niki decided it was best to steer the conversation back to more immediate concerns. She smiled softly, her eyes flicking over the parchment again, and switched the subject.