Of Royals & Pirates

I • Royalty

On this particular afternoon, Albert would rather be spending his time alone in his room or working on astronomical mapping, but apparently, it's his sister's — Emeri Argentin — birthday. A ball is supposedly what she, a princess, deserves.

And no, it isn't just any ball. It's a celebration ball, and Albert is hell-bent on searching for a plausible reason to stay in his room, reading the fuck out of boring books because he has no energy for the formal smiles and the common pleasantries. If only.

But on the other hand, going out isn't the worse thing, right? He can eat to his heart's desire, perhaps find several people who are genuinely interested in his hobbies. Being a prince has never been easy for Albert, since there is always an expectation that he has to fulfill, a milestone to reach, a reputation to uphold. Unlike his sisters, he isn't the best at handling court matters, and that's the biggest problem.

Albert stares lazily out of the window and into the far meadows, with rolling hills and glittering creaks, trees and cottages dotting the panorama. It is supposedly much more peaceful there, less royal drama, less everything. But is less good?

His thoughts go interrupted by a loud rapping on the door. "Come in!" he calls, hesitant about leaving the seat.

A girl with dark brown skin and curly ebony black hair comes in. A small tiara sits atop her head, glinting from the chandelier's lights above. "Aren't you supposed to be training?" she asks, folding her arms.

Albert rolls his eyes. "What, isn't it nearing sundown now? We should get prepared for the wedding, Joanne."

If Albert were asked, "Who are you closest to?" Then he'd answer Joanne without a second's hesitation. Joanne is the only sister who looks after him and actually cares about his wellbeing, instead of his other sisters who do not. Albert is simply a person who has a blood relation to them, but Joanne is different. She treats him like a brother, like a friend. Besides, she keeps winning on arguments. It's a strange reason to why a pair of siblings are close, but even he cannot come up with an adequate answer.

"But there's still time to train," Joanne argues, cocking an eyebrow. "You've been sitting here all day, staring out of the window and reading books as if you have just lost your dearest wife. Move those muscles a bit, you arse."

"Mother and Father would freak out if they were here," Albert gasps. "No profanity, big sis."

"What they don't know won't hurt them," she scoffs, waving him off. "Come on, I'll get there with you. If you have so much thoughts and feelings in that small body of yours, I suggest blowing off some steam can help."

"Small body?"

"Right. No fit to be king. You've got to be buff, brother dearest. Or the ladies won't—"

"You say that as if the ladies will like me. I'm not the kind who'll... have a lot of women around."

"Speak for yourself," Joanne sighs. "We've been through this countless times, yet you still do not understand what being a royal means. Especially that you're going to inherit Father's throne!"

"It means I have a lot of burden," Albert clicks his tongue, shrugging. "And a lot of women and children. I get it, but I don't want it."

Silence. Joanne reaches out for the doorknob, but pauses on her tracks. "You don't get to choose that." The usual lilt on her voice isn't gone, but the presence doesn't feel welcoming and familiar, somehow. "I would... agree with you. But we can't just do whatever. It has always been like that, dear Albert."

"Hey, no need to—"

"Your soldier friend is waiting," Joanne suddenly speaks, a wide smile on her face. Albert grimaces but forces himself to stand from his seat before grabbing the distinctive scabbard of his sword. The small emerald gem encrusted on the handle glints, as if staring at him.