The Pirate and the Princess

Chapter 4

What had he been thinking? Jim pressed his hands into his face. She was a princess, she wouldn't dare come near a guy like him. Such dirty peasantry. All he was to their class was a rat. A filthy rat, only worthy of work. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't seen an attractive girl in so long. Maybe he just had the need to tend to masculine urges. Something had obviously clicked in him and he was humiliated. He sat up and looked around her room. He envied her so much. Her large and in charge lifestyle. Such a lush and lavish way of living.
Jim stood up, staring into her closet. Beautiful dresses sorted by color. He thumbed over the fine silks, looking at the selection she had. How could this get boring?
As he left, he saw Captain Amelia and Delbert strolling off together, both their hair slightly mussed and tussled. The smell of sweat reeked on their clothes, making Jim furrow his brows and snuffs off into his own room. A loud altercation seemed to be happening in the hallway, between the queen and some man.
"So you're just selling her off? Without her consent at all?" The queens voice radiated through the wall.
"It was the only choice I had! You're acting like this is what I wanted to do!" The man, presumably the king, responded aggressively.
They went back and forth, throwing insults to one another. The voices faded away and with it, a dawning fact rose on Jim.
Melody is being sold off to someone, most likely someone she's never even met. Jim rested on his bed, dazing off into thought. She must've known about this, surely. Jim felt sorry for her. She'd never get to experience marrying someone you loved, someone who cared about you like you cared about them. That sounded horrible, like a long session of pure torture. Never loving the person you're eloping with. The thought just mulled over in his head, constantly turning and twisting like gears to a machine.
He tossed and turned in his bed. He tried shaking the thought from his head, the feeling from his stomach. He stared at his hands, realizing how dirty he is, physically. He needed to bathe, or shower, or something of the sort. Something to cleanse him of his dirt and grime. He began out of his room, pulling aside a servant.
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Hm? What is it?"
"Where are your wash rooms?"
The man directed the young boy towards a corridor with a large bamboo door.
"The door can jamb on occasion, just push it open if it becomes stubborn." The butler added. Jim thanked him and began rushing towards it.
He found the door, jiggled the handle until it decided to open. Peering into the room, he saw no one, escorting himself inside. It was quite big, with more ivory casting inside, the large tub was accompanied by a set of pumps where hot and cold water would come out. A large bucket sat between the both of them. On shelves sat different body washes, shampoos, herbs, even pipes with tobacco in them. Jim took his pick of the lavish soaps, setting them next to the bath, before pumping the hot and cold water, dumping it into the bathtub. As the bath became full enough to his pleasure, he pulled a towel from the rack, laying it over the hot water pump.
He stripped down to absolutely nothing. He looked over himself, staring at the brown tint he had, from sea or dirt. He stepped into the bath water, slowly allowing himself inside of it. It was a bit warmer than expected, but it was amazing to feel water once more. It was blissful to finally be able to clean his filth. He pulled the soap to his body and began cleaning himself.
The water turned brown with his filth, and he became his normal tan-olive skin. He scrounged every part of his being, practically rubbing himself raw. He hair soaked in the water and, as expected, more grime and salt sunk into it.
Jim pulled himself up from the tub, leaving the brown suds to the unplugged drain. He threw the warm towel over his fit body. He was a strong guy, though it didn't entirely show.
He began drying off, shaking the water from his hair. The suds ran down his body, and he swiftly popped them, obliterating them from existence. He dried the remaining hair from his head, pulling the water from his ponytail. When he finished cleaning, he wrapped the towel over his waist, hiding his lower half. He took his dirty clothes, and filled the bucket with hot water again. He pushed his shirt into the scalding water, viciously scrubbing it. The door pushed open behind him. He swiftly turned, gripping his towel so not to flash himself to the innocent bystander.
In the doorway stood the green eyed girl he had been with not an hour earlier. Her dress was the same, her hair as well, but something about her was very different. Still, Jim kicked back the bucket full of his clothes and scalding water. As fast as it was kicked back, Jim fell backwards. Melody rushed to his side, kneeling down beside him.
"Jim! Are you alright?" She cried out, helping him sit up.
"Yeah, just a minor inconvenience." He lifted his arm, then his leg, but cringed at the pain. He looked over it, and a large burn ran down his entire calf.
"You're burnt, we've got to get you something." Melody pulled his arm over her shoulder, bringing him up. Jim obliged her help, but felt awkward having it. He wanted to show that he was strong, that he could do it, but decided it'd be rude to refuse help from someone who seemed genuinely concerned for his health.
She lead him to his small space of a room before setting him down on his bed. She stared at his leg, before ushering in a servant.
"Can I please have a cold towel? Preferably a smaller one? This boy has been injured." The servant graciously obliged to her. She thanked him, before looking him over again.
"What were you doing in there?" Melody asked him, concern in her eyes and her words. Jim shrugged, carefully hiding his anxiety.
"Washing my clothes and myself," Jim gave her a sweet smile, zapping a switch in her face. Melody's face turned a light pink. He sat up to stare at her, looking at her beauty. She was a stranger to him, to each other they were barely friends. He wanted her, to hold her, to do something for her, but she was just a stranger.
The cold towelette came in, and Melody pressed it to the burn. An uncomfortable surge ran through his veins. A cringe crossed his face, and Melody patted his hand.
"I'm sorry. I wish I could help the pain go away." Jim tried to look strong.
"Don't worry about it. It's just a small injury." Jim stubbornly proposed. Melody still gently patted the wound, still watching Jim's discomfort. Jim met her eyes, another subtle connection to each other. Melody couldn't break the eye contact for a few more seconds, before snapping back. She continued tending to his wound.
"You could've just asked someone to clean your clothes. You're a guest in our house." Melody grooms him, standing up finally. "I'll send in for some new garments. Please rest until I bring them in," Melody pushed him down onto his bed, her small hands somehow forceful.
"I mean it. Please. Just sit back, and wait for me." Melody started to sound like his mother when Jim was a kid. He remembered that she would always make him stay in bed when he was sick. He felt a twinge in his heart as he remembered that, watching Melody walk out. He stared at the ceiling and felt the fluttering of butterflies in his belly, the memories of his mother flooding his head. He wanted to see her again, tell her he missed her. He wanted so badly to tell her of his adventures, the money he accumulated from his trips.
Melody opened the door, holding freshly folded clothes. She laid them beside him, giving the gentle nudge of approval to put them on.
"May I please have privacy?" He rebounded awkwardly. Melody flushed red, standing up straight.
"Oh! Of course, sorry," giving him a curtsy before exiting. Jim could tell, still, something wasn't right about her anymore. She was off, like something had been nipping at her. He wanted to ask her what it was, but knew it wasn't right. It wasn't his place. After all, he was only a peasant and she was but a princess. He'd never understand her.