Sky Pirate (Belles & Bullets Book 3)

by Caylen McQueen

  “Well... I have! I'm not getting out of this room, Doon. Execution or marriage are literally the only two choices I have... and I have you to thank for it.” Kitt reclined on her elbows and watched him check behind a portrait. When he didn't find anything, he threw the painting to the ground. For a moment, she was afraid the clattering portrait would attract the attention of a guard. As much as she was angry with Doon, she didn't want to see him tossed from her room. “I hope your reward money was worth my misery... Lord Francis Doon.”

  “Impressive, isn't it?” He turned around and winked at her. “A pirate becomes a duke. Who would've thought?”

  Kitt sneered at him. “Ohhhh... you can... you can shove your title up your arse!”

  “Shove my title up my arse?” Doon chuckled as he repeated her words. “That sounds like something I'd say, Princess. I think you've spent too much time with Captain Doon.”

  “This is probably the last time I spend time with Captain Doon. Malik will whisk me away to his foreign land, far far away, and I'll never see you again. I'll have his children... we'll live happily ever after...”

  “Well, now you're just being ridiculous! A happily ever after with that looby?” Doon snorted at the thought. “Don't make me laugh.”

  “My stepmother always wanted me to find a rich husband,” Kitt mused. “It doesn't get much better than a prince, does it? Mission accomplished, I'd say. Maybe this is for the best.”

  “Are you trying to make me sad, now?” Doon temporarily abandoned his search and joined her on the bed. When he rolled beside her, she tried to shove him out of bed, but he was too large to budge.

  “Please go away!” Kitt begged him.

  Doon's arm defiantly curled around her waist. “No.”

  “Get off.”

  “You don't mean that.” Doon kissed her forehead, her eyebrow, her cheek. Kitt wanted to keep protesting—she really did—but he was making it difficult for her. In a low voice, he told her, “I don't want to see you marry someone else.”

  “Believe me, I don't want to marry him either! But I don't think I have much of a choice, Doon.” Kitt started to caress his hair, then she remembered she was angry with him and quickly pulled back her hand. “Stop pretending you care about me. You're only making it worse.”

  “But I do care,” Doon insisted.

  “Well... perhaps you should have thought about that before you turned me over to the queen again,” Kitt chided him. “I could've been on your airship right now. We could've been happy. But no. You're so afraid of being happy that you'd rather throw me away and see me married to someone else.”

  Doon shook his head, but he didn't say a word.

  “Just... go.” Her eyes were filling with tears, so she turned her back to him. “I don't want to talk to you anymore. I just want to be left alone.”

  When she felt him rising from the bed, Kitt was even more tempted to cry. She might have succumbed to her tears if she wasn't distracted by the sound of a gun's clicking hammer. Kitt's curiosity had her sitting up in bed again. When she saw Doon moving to the door with two guns in his hands, she gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “I said I'd get you out of here. I meant it,” Doon said. “Get ready, Princess. One way or another, I'm going to free you from this place. Stay behind me.”

  “Doon, no!” Kitt ran to his side and coaxed him to lower his guns. “Were you planning on shooting your way out of here? No!” She didn't doubt that he could single-handedly cut a path to the airship, but she couldn't let him do it. “I'm not going to let you kill innocent guards to get me out of here!”

  He looked affronted by the thought. “Why not?”

  “Because... I'm not!” Kitt was simultaneously glowering and shaking her head. “Now put your guns away and stop being ridiculous!”

  “But it's the only way to get you out of here, Kitt! If this is our last chance to get you out, we have to take it!”

  “I said no.” As soon as he holstered his guns, Kitt shuffled back to bed. “What's done is done... and whatever's supposed to happen tomorrow will happen. I'm not going to let you kill people to save myself.”

  A silent Doon studied her, waiting for her to change her mind. He could have gotten her out. He would have gotten her out.

  When she didn't say anything, he quietly slipped through the door and into the hall, closing the door behind him.

  As soon as he was gone, Kitt crashed into her pillow with a sob.

  Three

  On the day of the wedding, Kitt could barely lift her body out of bed. The princess' handmaidens practically dragged her to her feet and forced her out of her nightgown. As they lifted Kitt's arms over her head and slipped on the wedding gown, her listless legs wavered beneath her. When she checked her reflection in the looking glass, she had never seen her eyes look more vacant. She had the eyes of a doll, glassy and sad.

  “What a lovely bride you are, Your Highness!” one of the older handmaidens complimented her. “Prince Malik is a very lucky man.”

  “Indeed,” agreed a maid with an impossibly long nose. “I don't think I've ever seen a lovelier bride.”

  Kitt didn't believe their flattery. How could she possibly look lovely when her face was so morose?

  The women led her to a chair in front of the looking glass and started fussing with her hair. They planted a long red wig on her head and spent more than twenty minutes perfecting it. Kitt's shoulders sagged as they pinned, probed and twisted the fake tendrils. She didn't know how she managed to convince anyone she was the princess when her posture was so poor.

  The long-nosed maid took a step back and admired the princess' appearance. “And now you're ready, Your Highness!” she announced with a smile.

  “Oh god...” Kitt groaned. Her reaction wasn't what they expected, but it was impossible to hide her misery. Any moment now, she expected Captain Doon to miraculously sweep in and save her from her horrid fate. She should have let him shoot his way out of the castle. As much as she didn't want a bloodbath, marrying Malik was almost as bad.

  While they paused at the bedroom door, Aislainn stood beside her and offered an encouraging smile. Another handmaiden pulled a veil over Kitt's head, clouding her eyes behind a wall of lace. When they stepped into the hall, Kitt's heart pumped harder than ever. Her head was so swelled with panic, it was a wonder she didn't topple to the floor. Two rows of soldiers lined both sides of the corridor, and as she passed, they raised their swords in unison. She wondered how long they had rehearsed to achieve such impressive synchronicity.

  After a lengthy march of doom down the castle's many hallways, they finally arrived at the assembly room where the wedding was taking place. The bronze doors opened with a mighty creak, revealing the large audience within—as well as Prince Malik, who waited for her at the aisle's end. When Kitt started forward, her feet could barely carry her.

  Fire crackled from two massive chandeliers, which swung from the ceiling like glowing pendulums. A choir of young boys harmonized hauntingly as Kitt sauntered forward. Coincidentally, they hit their most piercing note as she walked past Doon. Though her vision was obscured by her veil, she could clearly see his face, and it was depressingly devoid of emotion. Lord Francis Doon didn't care about her anymore. Maybe he never did?

  At long last, her sullen footsteps brought her to Prince Malik's side. He was dressed even more like a dandy than usual, in a bright white greatcoat and pinstripe breeches. There was a red rose pinned to the brim of his black top hat, under which she could barely see his slicked-back dark hair. Though he tried to smile at her, Malik struggled with the gesture as much as she did.

  “Lords, ladies, and most esteemed spectators,” the priest solemnly began. “We have gathered here today to witness the Holy union of this man and this woman, ordained by God...”

  Kitt could barely listen to his speech when her entire body was in a state of panic. She never thought she would get to this moment. She always assumed something would happen, someone would save her, or she wo
uld eventually find a way back home before the wedding occurred. She never imagined Malik would be standing in front of her, dryly reciting his vows to her. She never imagined she would glance over her shoulder and see Doon, watching her wedding through vacant eyes. She was crushed, hopeless, and soulless. It was easily the most dreadful moment of her life.

  The priest droned, “If anyone gathered here today has just cause to believe this man and woman should not be joined in Holy matrimony, speak now, or forever be silenced by the will of God.”

  Please Doon, Kitt's mind beseeched him. Please Doon, say something, do something, this is your last chance. Save me.

  But the priest's words were met with deafening silence from the spellbound crowd. Malik reached for Kitt's hand, which was slick with perspiration. When she felt him slip a cold metal band on her finger, Kitt wanted to cry.

  “And with that, this man and woman are bound to one another for eternity,” the priest recited. “Prince Malik, you may kiss your bride.”

  Malik slowly peeled back Kitt's veil, revealing his wife's shocked, colorless face. He brought his lips to hers, kissing her lightly as the audience erupted with cheers. Then he took her arm and led her from the assembly room. When Kitt passed Doon, she dared to glance in his direction. Like the rest of the crowd, he brought his hands together in apathetic applause. When she saw him clapping, her heart broke harder than ever.

  Not until she reached the hallway did the realization completely dawn on Kitt: She was Prince Malik's wife. Of course, he thought she was Princess Lyneah, but she was the one who whispered the vows. She was the one with the ring on her finger. And with no Lyneah around to save her, Kitt was the one who would share Malik's bed that night.

  When the wedding was over, Doon followed the rest of the crowd to a grand reception room, where the celebration would continue. He caught a glimpse of Queen Loreina leaving the assembly room with a throng of knights. The smug smile on the queen's face was very telling. Now that her daughter was Malik's bride, Loreina's path to the throne was impeded by one less obstacle.

  A huge feast was prepared in honor of the new husband and wife. Doon had no interest in the food—he ran straight for the drinks. He claimed two tall glasses of wine, one for his right hand and one for his left hand. Had it been possible, he would have balanced two more on his shoulders. Doon withdrew from the rest of the crowd and found a quiet corner where he could sulk to himself and drown his dismal thoughts in wine.

  However, Doon's peace and solitude were short-lived. He barely finished his first glass before he heard someone hiss, “you bastard!” When Doon turned around to greet the speaker, he was greeted with a fist instead. Roderick punched him so hard, Doon's second glass of wine dropped and shattered.

  “You bastard!” Roderick screamed again. “How dare you! How dare you let this happen to her? How bloody dare you!”

  When Roderick tried to hit him again, Doon leaned backward, nonchalantly evading the incoming fist. “How dare you destroy a perfectly decent glass of wine!” Doon airily retorted.

  Roderick tried to punch him yet again, leaving Doon no choice but to fight back. He ducked the knight's flying fist, then he brought his elbow forward, smashing Roderick's nose.

  When Roderick punched him in the stomach, Doon responded by pummeling the side of his head. Roderick tried to tackle him, but Doon shoved him backward, lifted him up, and threw him into a fancy pillar.

  “Stop!” Queen Loreina shouted as she rushed toward the fray. “Stop fighting right now! I won't see my daughter's wedding day ruined by a petty squabble!”

  The queen's edict didn't stop Roderick. When he got to his feet, his fist connected with Doon's jaw one more time.

  “Sir Roderick, stop this at once!” the queen screamed at him. “You're in enough trouble as it is! In fact, I can hardly believe you'd be foolish enough to show your face after everything you've done!” Loreina's thunderous voice attracted more spectators than the fight itself. Everyone in the room was frozen in place as they listened to her scolding. “You helped my daughter to escape... you stole an airship... and now you're hitting the Duke of Suffick, my top privateer, in the middle of my daughter's wedding reception? How dare you! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cut off your head!”

  The threat of losing his head brought Roderick to his senses, at least temporarily. “I'm sorry, Your Highness,” he weakly apologized. “I let my emotions get the best of me.”

  “If I didn't have a tremendous amount of respect for your father, Roderick Kelp, I would lop off your head this very instant!” Loreina shrieked. “In fact, your father's status may very well be the only thing that saves you. If you were any other knight, you'd be dead before you reached the door!” Loreina turned to Doon, who grimaced as he rubbed his jaw. Roderick's last punch hit harder than expected. “Lord Suffick, what would you have me do with this foolish, silly man? How would you have me punish him? Should I kill him? Your opinion might sway me.”

  “I'd leave it up to you, Your Highness.” When Doon saw the pitiful expression on Roderick's lips, he added, “But I wouldn't kill him.”

  Roderick looked a bit surprised by Doon's remark, but he didn't say a word. He kept his head down and awaited the queen's verdict.

  “Very well. Because Doon is merciful, I shall be merciful,” Queen Loreina said. “I will not kill you, Sir Roderick, nor will I imprison you. I'm feeling very generous today, and I can understand how the princess' marriage might make you feel, considering your history. However... you are suspended indefinitely. Gather your things from the knights' quarters and leave the castle at once!”

  Roderick tried to speak up for himself. “But... Your Majesty, I--”

  “At once!” she repeated. “Do not test my patience, Roderick. I am being lenient enough as it is!”

  Two knights came forward to haul Roderick from the reception room. Before they did, Roderick turned to Doon and hissed, “I should have never saved you! I should have let you die in that coliseum! You've ruined her life. You know that, right? This is all because of you! You should be ashamed!”

  “This entire day hurts me as much as you, Roddy, believe me...” Doon quietly replied. “And yes... I do blame myself.”

  Four

  “Ly-Lyneah!” Tobias grabbed the princess' arm and gave her a light shake. For the second morning in a row, he struggled to rouse her from sleep. It was nearly eleven o'clock, and yet she slumbered like the dead. “Lyneah... wake up!”

  Tobias briefly glanced at the pile of blankets on the floor, which served as his makeshift bed. He had surrendered his actual bed to Lyneah, but they still shared a room. And she snored. A lot. He spent most of the night with a pillow crushed to his head, and he still couldn't drown her out. As much as he loved having her with him, the princess was proving to be a difficult house guest.

  “Lyneeeaaah!” he moaned her name. “Lyneah, we have to be at work in less than a half-hour! You need to wake up!” Tobias was nothing if not punctual, and he didn't want her sleeping habits to make him tardy.

  “Mmmfgrrr.” Lyneah mumbled a reply as she rolled over, away from Tobias.

  “Hey, I made you an omelet!” He tried to entice her out of bed with the promise of food. “With extra cheese, even! Don't you like cheese?”

  Lyneah rolled toward him and opened one eye. “A cheese omelet, you say?”

  “Yes!” A wild grin spread across Tobias' face. If she was responding to the prospect of food, he was making progress. “Wouldn't you like to get up and eat it?”

  “Oh, alright.” With a grunt, Lyneah dragged herself into a sitting position and stretched. “I suppose I can get up now.”

  “We have to catch the train in ten or fifteen minutes,” Tobias told her as he crossed the room to fetch the omelet. “I hope I left you enough time to enjoy your breakfast.”

  When he handed over the omelet, Lyneah smiled. He often downplayed his cooking skills, but it was amazingly fluffy. “I can't believe you woke up and cooked for me. You're so swee
t, Tobias,” she said. “Honestly, I've never met anyone sweeter.” In the castle, she only encountered people who were paid to be nice. Tobias was the first person she ever met who was nice simply for the sake of being nice. Lyneah found it refreshing.

  “I'm n-n-not that sweet, surely,” a blushing Tobias attempted to deflect her compliment.

  “No. You are,” Lyneah insisted. “You're not even capable of being mean... and if you are, I haven't seen it yet. I don't know how I ever lived without your friendship.”

  Friendship. There was that dreadful word again. Friend. Every time Tobias thought about confessing his feelings to her, that word set him back another week or two.

  “Did you eat?” Lyneah asked as she offered him a bite from her fork.

  “I did.” When Tobias nodded, a lock of his hair tumbled over his eyes. Lyneah was tempted to reach up and touch it, but he pushed it aside before she had a chance.

  “This is a very good omelet!” she praised him. “It's one of the best I've had, and I lived in a castle.”

  “You're being too kind, but I'm glad you like it.” He smiled shyly. “Now... when you finish eating, get dressed as quickly as you can. I'd like to make the next train, if possible.”

  Lyneah had only two bites to go, so she shoved them into her mouth and sprang from bed. She pulled off her nightgown and tossed it to Tobey, who was too gobsmacked to catch it. The princess was walking around his bedroom in her knickers and brassiere, and she seemed completely oblivious to the effect it had on him.

  She hopped into a pair of breeches and pulled on a shirt. For the moment, Lyneah was borrowing Kitt's clothes. When she finished dressing and she saw Tobias' face, she laughed. He was slack-jawed and blinking rapidly.

  “Are you alright?” Lyneah asked with a giggle. “You look like you've had the shock of your life.”

  “Uh... uh... right. Yes. I'm f-fine. I'm alright.” With a shake of his head, Tobias tried to rattle the image of a half-naked Lyneah from his mind. “Let's go, shall we?”