My Treasure (Norman Reedus Pirate)

Twenty Three: Hung

That night, I stayed in my room, terrified to leave and see Charles again. The next morning, I was aching painfully, and I woke with a feeling of deep dread. Today, Norman would be punished, for "kidnapping" me. If anything, he treated me like a gem. So did the other pirates, ignoring Jack's rude comments every now and then. I sighed. Thinking of Jack and the crew made me sad. Depressed, if you were. I sniffed, wiping an eye. I placed a hand on my abdomen, knowing that if there weren't life in there before, then there sure as hell one now. Either way, I was still going to name it Hercules or Andromeda. I didn't give a damn if Charles wanted to name it something else. I was naming it something Norman wanted.

There was a light knocking on my door, making me look up. "Isabelle? Your mother has called you to breakfast." Mary stated.

"I don't want food." I mumbled. I tucked my knees into my chest, burying my face into my knees.

"May I come in?" She asked gently. When I didn't answer, she opened the door anyway. I didn't look, but I felt her making the bed cave while sitting beside me. She rubbed my shoulder gently, and pulled me in.

"Charles raped me." I mumbled. Mary stopped rubbing, and stared at me in shock.

"What?" She quietly exclaimed.

"He raped me because he 'loves me'."

"That isn't love. That's abuse!" She declared. "Does the Queen Annabelle know?"

"Would she believe me?" I muttered.

"You're her daughter! She has to-"

"She believes that proper tradition is more important than anything else! Hell if I had a brother I'd be forced to marry him instead of Charles!" I snapped. It could very well have been true. Luckily, I'd never know.

Mary bit her lip, chewing it a little. Then, she pulled something out of her dress. I didn't look due to my wallowing in my own self pity. I felt something sold and metal being set on my lap, making me open my eyes. It was a dagger. The blade was made of a mixture of gold and steel, while the handle had an emerald at the end of it. I glanced at her, severely confused. She didn't say anything, just gave me a hug before getting up and leaving. I held the dagger in both of my hands, confused about what I was supposed to do with it.

Is she telling me to kill Charles? I pondered. I mean, what else would I use it for?

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Later that afternoon, I had the knife tucked under my dress. I was planning on assassinating Charles later that night, so that way I could be hung like Norman. My mother, Prince Charles, and I were sitting on a little pedestal in the town square. The only way up or down was a small staircase behind us. There were three thrones, with Charles in the middle one. I kept seeing him flash me glances, mostly at my private areas. I felt repulsed and vulnerable under his gaze. Above the three thrones was a small tarp. This was where the king, queen, and first son or daughter sat during a hanging, which was only a few yards away. I could see the lone, hanging noose that would soon be around Norman's neck. The hanging platform was a good five feet off the ground, and there was a trapdoor under neath it. All the guards had to do was open that, and Norman would be hung. We had a clear view because nobody was aloud to stand in front of us. It was a cloudy, dull day, and it felt as though the gods knew what was happening to an innocent man.

I fought tears, and quickly wiped them on my light blue dress. My hair was pulling painfully at my head, and I felt the makeup running down my face with the tears. I saw Charles look at me, before handing me a neckerchief. I shot him a glare.