Along the way, she passed Marius, the queen's advisor. He had such seedy, narrow, mistrustful eyes that he always made her uneasy. “Princess...” When he addressed her, his voice was stabbingly cold. “What are you doing out of bed at this hour? You're not planning on running away again, are you?” Though he chuckled, it was an undeniably chilling laugh.
“Not at all. And even if I did want to run away, haven't you made that impossible?” Kitt thrust a thumb in the direction of the three men who followed her. “Goodnight, Marius...”
When she tried to walk past him, Marius caught her arm and squeezed. “Pardon me, Princess, but I need to have a word with you,” he hissed. “And I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist.”
“I'm the princess. And you're assaulting me. I'm going to have to insist that you let me go!”
“Mm hmm.” Marius released her arm and gave his chin a contemplative stroke. “You know, I find it curious that there was no blood on your bed sheets on the night of your consummation.”
“W-well...” Kitt stuttered a bit. “Perhaps you didn't look hard enough.”
“Ah, but the princess lost her virginity a long time ago, didn't she? Or did you actually expect us to find blood?” Marius asked with a grin. “I suppose I should say you lost your virginity a long time ago.”
Kitt's shoulders tensed at his accusatory words. “This is not something I care to discuss with you, Marius. What I do or don't do in my bed is really none of your business. And now I must take my leave...”
When she brushed past him, the advisor turned in her direction and watched her go. “Interestingly enough, Your Highness, I read a recent report of someone spotting Princess Lyneah... in Lundun. But that must be a mistake, right? Because as far as I know, you weren't in Lundun that recently.”
“Goodnight, Marius!” Kitt shouted over her shoulder. Marius clearly had suspicions about her identity. In fact, he seemed so convinced of her lie, she half-expected him to catch up to her and drag her to the nearest cell.
“She had long hair too... this Princess Lyneah in Lundun!” Marius continued to inform her as she headed down the hall. “But that couldn't possibly be you, could it? No, not at all... because your hair is short!”
When Kitt reached the library, she threw open the door and stepped inside. After suffering through Marius' accusations, she needed a moment to catch her breath. Unfortunately, she had no time to relax, because she saw something even more shocking. Prince Malik had Ryas on this lap, and their lips were locked in a deep, passionate kiss.
“What?” Kitt couldn't stop the word from flying out of her mouth. As soon as Malik heard her voice, he stopped kissing Ryas. He pushed the whipping boy off of his lap so hard, Ryas toppled to the floor. The young man scrambled to his feet and sank into the nearest chair.
“This... this isn't what it looks like!” Malik exclaimed, even though it was a ridiculous thing to suggest. Kitt knew what she saw. Her husband's tongue was entwined with his whipping boy's, and there was really no other way to interpret what she witnessed.
“You... and Ryas...?” Kitt shrieked. “You're lovers?”
“No... noo...” Malik slid his palm across his face. Hiding behind his hand, he bellowed, “It's not like that!”
“You don't have to deny it, Malik. I mean... it's shocking, but it isn't as if I'm upset.” Kitt turned to Ryas, hoping she would get an honest answer from him. “You and the prince are lovers?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Though he confessed the truth more quickly, Ryas' voice was somber. “I did tell you he was the most important person in the world to me. I thought you understood what that meant.”
“I remember you saying that, but I never suspected this.” Turning her attention back to Malik, Kitt asked, “How long has this been going on? How long have you been with your whipping boy?”
“Since we were fifteen. So... three years.” Malik winced as he gave his answer. “Please don't tell anyone, Lyneah! It would be the end of me! My father would probably beat Ryas to death, if not torture him first. It would be the end of us!”
“Relax, Malik, I'm going going to say anything to anyone... although you should probably lock the door the next time you're cavorting with your lover.” Kitt's eyes were dancing with amusement as she sat at the table with Malik and his whipping boy. “Wait! On the night of our wedding, you told me you were in love with someone else. Is that what you meant? You're in love with Ryas?”
“Yes...” Malik could hear the sadness in his voice, but he didn't want his boyfriend to be discouraged by it, so he reached for Ryas and held his hand. “I've been in love with him for years.”
“This is unbelievable! I'm amazed. Dumbfounded!” Kitt briefly turned her gaze to the library's many bookshelves. After seeing Ryas on Malik's lap, she forgot all about her original goal. After the night she had, there was no way she could focus her attention on a book. “But if you love him, why do you let him get hurt? Why don't you stop your father when he hits him?”
“There's really nothing I can do. If I could actually prevent my father from hurting him, don't you think I'd do everything in my power to stop it? It kills me to see him get hurt. Every time my father strikes him, it hurts me every bit as much as it hurts Ryas.”
“I doubt that. At the end of the day, Ryas is the one with the bruises. He's the one with the scars to prove his pain.” Kitt flashed a pitying glance at Ryas, who looked strangely stoic as they discussed his beatings.
“But... I'm a wreck!” Malik nearly sobbed the word. “Every time I see Ryas get hurt, it breaks me... it emotionally breaks me. If you don't think my pain is awful, Lyneah, then you know nothing about love. You don't know what it's like to be in love and watch your lover suffer.”
Naturally, Kitt's thoughts wandered to Francis Doon. She still remembered what it felt like to see him tied up, beaten, battered, and forced to fight to the death. She had never felt pain like that before. “Maybe you're right, Malik. I don't know.”
“Please, please don't tell anyone about this!” Malik pleaded with her again. “This has been our secret for ages. And if Ryas was hurt because of my carelessness, I would just--”
“I won't tell anyone!” Kitt assured him. “I'd hate to see Ryas get hurt! Your secret is safe with me, I promise.”
“Thank you.” Malik brought Ryas' hand to his lips as he expressed his gratitude. “Your silence and acceptance means a great deal to us. I've never been more fond of you than I am at this moment, Lyneah.”
Kitt felt the same way. Prince Malik was never her favorite person in the world, but for the first time, she felt like she understood him a bit. “But... honestly, Malik...” Kitt rose from her chair as she spoke. “If you love Ryas, I mean really love him... you need to find a way to protect him from your father. Don't let King Roen hurt him anymore!”
Kitt's own words resonated with her. By pushing Doon away, wasn't she hurting him too? Didn't he say she was torturing him. Kitt needed to see him, to give him the forgiveness he desired, and to tell him everything would be alright. She wanted to put him out of his misery.
When she left the library, she was reunited with her three persistent guards. They followed her to the castle skyport, where she hoped to find Doon, but she was intercepted by another guard at the port's entrance.
“Pardon me, Your Highness.” The skyport guard intentionally stepped in her path, halting her advance. “I'm afraid I must ask you to turn around. You're not permitted to come here.”
“But...” Kitt stood on her tiptoes and tried to peer over the guard's shoulder. She could barely see the ships behind him, and she certainly didn't see Doon's. “Are you sure you won't let me walk around the skyport for a bit? You can follow me, if you need to.”
“I cannot permit that, no.”
Kitt glared at him. If she was the princess, why wasn't she free to go anywhere? Clearly, they didn't want her to escape again, but it seemed so unfair. She was supposedly part of the royal family, and yet she was outranked by a pompous gu
ard.
“Are you looking for something in particular, Your Highness?” the skyport guard asked. “If so, I would be happy to help you in any way I can.”
Kitt caught herself sneering at his counterfeit respect. “Actually, yes. I'm looking for Captain Doon. Is he around?”
“I'm sorry, Your Highness. As of yesterday, Captain Doon is no longer at the castle.”
Kitt's heart sank at the thought. She desperately wanted to see him again, to tell him she still cared, and to put an end to the distance between them. Unfortunately, there was more distance between them than ever. “Well... do you know when he'll be back?”
“I'm afraid not, Your Highness.”
“Do you know what he's doing?”
“I do not. And even if I did, I would not be at liberty to disclose that information.”
Kitt clenched her fists as she listened to the guard's punctilious responses. “Well then... goodbye.” With a snort, she turned on her heel and stormed away from him. As she charged back to her room, a single thought raged in her head.
Doon was gone.
Doon was gone.
She prayed it wouldn't be too long until she saw him again.
Fifteen
As Doon moved throughout the airship, he couldn't stop thinking that it felt exceptionally hollow, and the reason was obvious. Without Kitt on board, it didn't quite feel the same. He kept expecting to turn a corner and see her on the bow, watching the clouds, hoping to bump into him. Strangely enough, he even missed her nagging. He hadn't lit a cigarette in days, even though he needed one, because he knew she wouldn't approve.
No matter how many times he tried to occupy his thoughts with something else, Kitt found a way back into his mind. His coat made him think of Kitt, and how she wore his clothes for two glorious days. The crow's nest made him think of Kitt, and how she was scared to climb. Zeke, the ginger boy who swabbed the deck, made him think of Kitt. Deck swabbing was a chore, and yet she somehow made it enjoyable. And, of course, Miles made him think of Kitt—mostly because the old man wouldn't stop talking about her.
Tea and biscuits: Kitt. Guns: Kitt. The color red: Kitt. She infested his thoughts so thoroughly, Doon was starting to think he was suffering from a sickness. Doon required a distraction, so he sent Bryce to fetch his father. Brutalizing Stephen Doon was always entertaining, especially when others were watching. It gave Francis a chance to show his authority. Some—but not many—of Doon's men were with him over six years ago, when his father was the captain of the airship. Occasionally, he liked to remind them who was in charge.
“Ah, Francis! My favorite whoreson!” As Stephen approached his son, he squinted against the sunlight. After spending days in his dark, desolate cell, the sun always blinded him. “Seeing your face is even more unpleasant than the rash on my cock. What did I do to deserve the displeasure of your company?”
“I was bored, so I wanted to make you miserable,” Francis countered quickly. “Watching you suffer is such a pleasurable pastime. I simply cannot deny myself!” When he saw his father's manacles dragging across the deck, he clicked his tongue. “What did I tell you about scuffing my deck, Father? Honestly! Pick up your feet when you walk.”
“Eat shit, son,” Stephen retorted. “And this is my ship. Mine. You're just the little shit who stole it, and once I get it back...”
“Please do finish your threat. I can't wait to hear what you come up with!” Francis rubbed his palms together in false anticipation.
“I'm going to cut out your eyes and force feed them to your girl. Kitt. And then I'm going to scalp that rat's nest you call hair and use it to wipe my bloody arse!”
“Bloody arse? Ooh... that sounds rather unpleasant!” Doon chuckled as he shoved his father forward. “Rectal bleeding could be a sign of something rather serious, you know.”
“Shut your mouth, fool! You're not as clever as you think you are.”
“You're right. I'm probably more clever than I think I am!” Francis gave his father another shove, then he slapped the back of his head, simply because he could. “I do so enjoy these walks we have, Father. It really soothes the soul.”
“I don't know why you're making me walk at all! This is bullshit!”
“I'm doing you a favor. I'm letting you stretch your legs, bask in sunlight... or would you rather be stuck in your cell all day, every day?”
Stephen Doon spit on his son's shoe, which earned him a slap from Bryce this time. When Stephen Doon was on the deck, Bryce rarely left his captain's side. “I'd rather be spared the sight of your ugly face, truth be told.”
“Ugly face?” Francis rolled his eyes at his father's insult. “Is that really the best you can do, Father? I'm disappointed. Your jabs are not only getting weak, they're getting ridiculous!”
“The captain's handsome. Real real handsome,” Bryce interjected on his captain's behalf. “All da ladies think so. Even all the mens think so!”
“Thank you, Bryce. I appreciate that... as awkward as it was,” Francis said. Father and son were eyeing the big man with the same bewildered expression. Francis greatly favored his father, much more than he ever favored his mother. When he looked at Stephen, it was almost like looking at a reflection of himself, thirty years in the future.
“Oh, how I wish I could shove you overboard!” Stephen fantasized. “I'd love to hear you scream as you sail down to earth. That would give you a quick death, though. You deserve something infinitely more painful.”
“This is making me bored, Father. Don't you ever get tired of talking about how much you hate me and want me dead?”
“No. Not really. Do you ever get tired of hating me and wanting me dead?”
“Hmm. No. I suppose you have a point.” Francis silently glared at his father's head as they shuffled around the deck. He was looking at the man who had ruined his life. It was impossible to suppress the hatred he felt for him. “Still, it would be nice if we discussed something besides our mutual hatred for each other. The weather, perhaps?”
“Have you shagged any more whores lately?” Stephen asked. He was making reference to the time he hired three whores to ride his son's body. It was one of his proudest moments. “Or are you still a pussy who refuses to touch a woman's body? I made you a man that day, son. You should thank me for it.”
“I told Kitt about that, you know,” Francis quietly confessed. Even though Bryce was with them, Doon doubted he would understand the conversation.
“Did you? And here I thought it filled you with great and terrible shame!” Stephen chuckled. “Did you tell her you cried?”
“No. And I don't know why we're discussing this. It happened over a decade ago. It's ancient.”
“Well, it still feels like yesterday to me. I still think about it while I'm locked up in my cell.”
“My poor father. All you can do is relive your past glory, knowing you'll never have it again. That must be so hard. So very, very hard.”
Doon's fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. He was always tempted to kill his father. Always. It would have been so easy to rip his sword from its sheath and drive it into his old man's skull. Francis had imagined it many times. It had become his most tantalizing fantasy. But if he was going to kill him one day, it needed to be perfect. Francis had taken many lives, but this one needed to be memorable.
All of a sudden, they were approached by Doldy, who was wide-eyed and panting. “Cap'n!” the pirate exclaimed. “Captain, you need to hear this! It's real important!”
“Even more important than heckling my father?” Doon turned to Bryce. “Very well. Escort my father to his cell. Doldy, you have my attention.”
“We gotta be quick!” Doldy said as he rushed across the deck. “You won't want to miss this, sir, you will not want to miss it!”
Doon followed Doldy to the airship's helm, where they received a crackling message on their antiquated radio.
If you wish... fzzzt... join me, you have a place at my side. I am... gzzt... a radio tower, east of
Lundun, just north from.... brrrt... Sheepsgate. When enough of us have gathered, we will take back the castle, take back the throne, and ssssshh... as a nation.
“It's the princess, Cap'n!” Doldy exclaimed. “Princess Lyneah is asking people to help her. You wanted to find the princess, right?”
“Yes. Of course! Well done, Doldy, I appreciate your quick thinking.” It was probably a miracle that Doldy was thinking of anything besides women and liquor. “And now... I believe we have our destination! Plot a course for Sheepsgate, as quick as you can!”
Sixteen
After the way Roderick behaved the last time she encountered him, Aislainn didn't know why she returned to the pub. According to the knights' gossip, the suspended Sir Roderick could always be found there, whether it was morning, noon or night. When Aislainn visited the pub two days after their initial encounter, Roderick was still there, drowning himself in drinks. He was sitting at the exact same table, which made Aislainn wonder if he'd even moved since the last time she saw him.
Roderick's head had collapsed on the table. Was he sleeping? Aislainn ordered a bowl of veggie stew and sat at the opposite end of the room, quietly studying him. When he didn't move, budge or even twitch for at least twenty minutes, she started to wonder if he was deceased.
After finishing her stew, Aislainn approached Roderick's table and lightly nudged his shoulder. “Roderick!” When he didn't stir, she tapped him a few more times. “Roderick... are you alive or dead?”
“Mmmmgrrr...” Roderick simultaneously moaned and growled at the girl who interrupted his slumber. He rubbed his eyes, which only made them more hazy, so it took him a moment to recognize the person who bothered him. “Miss Cumberland? Aislainn?”
Sky Pirate (Belles & Bullets Book 3) Page 9
