Duty Bound

Chapter 6

Once they were aboard the ship, Crowley couldn't believe his eyes. The exterior had looked grim and uninviting, but once he was inside, he saw that it was less of a ship and more of a floating palace.

The man who had come for them in the lifeboat was leading them further into the elaborate halls, past ballrooms and sitting rooms, until they were finally inside an enormous library.

"Your niece is here, your highness," he said with a quick bow, and left.

Before them stood a man of about fifty, tanned, slim, and wearing a smoking jacket and slippers.

"Amy!" he cried out, throwing his arms around the princess.

Their embrace was protracted and very close to tearful. They exchanged seemingly unending exclamations of joy at seeing each other again. Crowley tried not to listen too closely, instead staring in wonder at the sheer amount of books on display.

"And who is this you have with you?" the princess's uncle asked once their outpourings of emotion had ended.

"This is Captain Crowley, uncle," she said. "He's bravely dispatched two assassins. Without him, I'd have been killed back in the woods."

"I see. And what might be your first name, Captain Crowley?" the man asked with an unmistakable glint in his eye.

"James," Crowley replied, doing his best to hide his surprise. He wasn't unused to such attention, but he'd never had it emanating from a member of the royal family.

"He's quite a find, isn't he?" the man said to the princess.

"Uncle!" she exclaimed, going red.

"If you don't want him, I'll take him. Pickings are rather slim for me here," he smiled.

"I'm afraid I'm not of your inclination, your highness," Crowley said as coolly as he could manage.

"You are a devil," the prince smiled. "It's no matter. You are to dine at my table. It's been so long since I've had any company."

Wonderful. So he was stuck aboard this ship with a hedonistic prince who was all but salivating over him and a princess who would undoubtedly get him killed.

"Amy, you must be exhausted. I'll have one of the maids find you and your Captain rooms," the prince said.

He pulled a rope that was hanging from the ceiling, and a woman in a rather ridiculous white cap and apron ran into the room moments later.

"Yes, your highness?" she asked.

"Show my niece and this strapping young soldier where they will be sleeping. And please find somewhere where he can put his..." he indicated the bulky weapon over Crowley's shoulder.

"It's a rocket launcher, uncle," the princess told him.

"Yes. And be quick about it!" the prince said to the maid, falling into an armchair and lighting a cigarette.

"Yes, your highness," the woman said, doing a little curtsy at the prince. "Come with me, your highness, Captain."

They followed the maid out of the library. Once they were out of earshot, the princess turned to him.

"I'm sorry for my uncle's behavior," she said. "He's always been prone to overexcitement when meeting new people."

"That's one thing to call it," Crowley said.

"Here we are, your highness," the maid said to the princess, showing her into a bedroom. Crowley saw inside, noting the enormous four poster bed, the ornate vanity table littered with all manner of women's things, and a window showing the glistening waves outside.

The princess disappeared inside, shutting the door without a word to the maid.

"Someone will be up shortly to help you undress, your highness," the maid called through the closed door. The princess did not answer.

"Rude little creature, isn't she?" the maid huffed once she and Crowley were alone.

"Aren't they all?" Crowley replied.

He hadn't realized it, but for the first time since being in the princess's company, he felt at ease. He felt lighter and freer. He was finally among his own set.

The maid led him to the staff living quarters located just above the engine rooms, where the opulence quickly gave way to familiar scruffiness.

"You're fortunate that we have a spare bed. One of our footmen left us last time we docked," the maid explained.

Crowley's room was much plainer than the princess's. Just four walls with no windows, a bed, and a bedside table with a lamp on it.

"Make yourself at home. You're free to explore the ship, so long as you stay out of the prince's private quarters," she said. "Dinner for staff is at seven. I'll make sure we have a place for you."

And with that, she shut the door, leaving him alone at last.

Crowley sat down on the bad – mattress as hard as a rock, of course – and stared down at the floorboards. Only one thought remained after he had settled down: he was done for.

The ship was sailing out of the bay at quite a speed, which worried him. But even the unsettling fact of being trapped aboard this vessel was merely one brush stroke of the big picture. That picture being the simple fact that if he ever returned to his post, the crown prince would have him killed.

It appeared that his fate was now inexorably tied with that of the princess. If she made it to her trial safely and gave evidence against the crown prince, he would have no more to fear.

Very well, then. If that was what it took for him to stay alive, then he would make sure to deliver her to the Crown Court.