A Hidden Queen

Chapter 1

Cold, musty dampness. It was a smell that burnt the nostrils. Clinton Carter stretches out his long limps, resting his wrist on-top of his bent knee as he pulls his hat down over his eyes. The young pirate king leans his head against the rock wall. The coldness seeps into his bones, sending a small shiver down his spine. How the hell did they get into this mess? He thinks bitterly. Well, he knew how he had got into it. He didn't listen to his daughter, plain and simple.

He huffs aggressively, curling his hand into a tight fist. Living a life such as this, Clinton was not blind to situation like these. In fact, he was all too accustomed to the reality of prison, but this time was different. This time his daughter was stuck in the situation with him. And that gnawed at his very soul. He sighs heavily, closing his eyes against the flickering lantern.

"Come on."

Clinton purses his lips as the soft frustration filters over. He glances into the other cell, where Josephine stood at the front. Her nimble fingers are wrapped around the cold steel bars, her shoulders tight with tension. He observes his daughter lean back, pulling at the unmoving iron bars.

"Come on." She grits out.

The pirate king silently counts the second in his head as his daughter starts to inch back. A startled cry pierces his ears as her fingers slip off the damp steel, sending her backwards with arms failing. Clinton visibly grinches as she connects with the hard stone floor. She audibly groans, rubbing the tender area.

"Are you quite done?" Clinton questions, leaning his head back.

Joe narrows her eyes, glaring with fire. "No, I am not. The air smells of mildew and salt, so these things must have a weakness somewhere. If I can just get one of them to budge. . ."

"Those bars aren't going to budge, love. All ye doing it tiring yeself out. So, leave it be." Clinton's deep voice commands.

Josephine scoffs, deepening her glare. Her long reddish hair hung around her face, making those fiery blue eyes stand out against the tanned skin. Clinton quirks a brow as her nostrils flare with her anger.

"At least I am doing something instead of sitting over there asleep! We wouldn't even be in this mess if you had listened to me in the first place about Petite!" She accuses hotly.

The silence that follows settles heavily between the pair. Clinton exhales deeply as he purses his lips to control his rising anger. He pushes himself off the back wall, swinging his legs off the stone slab. His dark brown eyes lock directly with her blue ones causing her to squirm under the tension.

"Dad I. . ."

"No." He curtly dismisses, crouching in front of his daughter. "You are damn lucky we aren't in the same cell Josephine Elizabeth Carter. I know that ye aren't pleased with this situation, neither am I. But yelling and taking ye frustration out on me is not the solution young lady. So, stop it before I give you something to be crying about. Ye hear me?"

"Yes sir." Joe swallows tentatively.

Clinton sharply nods, standing to his full height. Joe watches him curiously before throwing herself backwards. He places his hands on his hips as she dramatically brings her hand up to cover her face.

"I'm sorry, dad." She mumbles quietly. "It's just hard to sit here and do nothing. We have no idea of our fates, and I cannot take the uncertainty anymore. I must do something."

Clinton's face visibly softens, "I know sweetheart. But have some faith in ye old man. I'm trying to figure something out as we speak."

Joe sighs uncovering her face to rest her forearm on her forehead. Clinton bits his lower lip, turning away from his daughter. The truth was, he had no idea how he was going to get them out. The prison was heavily guarded, and maintenance was apparently a regular thing. The cell was even kept spartan, throwing the thought of pulling the door off its hinges out the window. There was nothing he could do.