Chapter Text
You sighed, the tight corset making your every breath difficult. Your hands hid in the long puffy skirt, the one your mother forced you to wear this morning.
You liked dresses, sometimes, the ones you chose. Not the ones that dug into your ribs and had your feet getting tangled at every step.
“Sit still and look pretty,” your mother whispered to you, glaring at the frown between your eyebrows.
That was all you had to be, as a princess. You had to sit still and be pretty, be polite, be good, be obedient.
You couldn’t be smart, or loud, or carefree. You were nothing but a prideful object for your parents, one that was getting on their nerves with every year you spent still unmarried.
They had tried to force you into a marriage with an older man, a year past, a duke, or something. You couldn’t remember exactly. All you had seen were the wrinkles on his face, and his heavy eyes on your skin.
You had puked that night, cried yourself to sleep, at the idea you had to share his bed, give him children, be his.
You had run in the night, pretty dresses forgotten and left behind, only a few clothes in a bag, a few pieces of jewelry, and coins to buy yourself a way out. You had run to the dock, to find a boat that would get you out.
Any boat. Anything.
No one had been willing to take on a strange woman on their ship, whose face was hidden by a hood, voice stuttering and rough and urgent.
You had been desperate, feet taking you from one boat to another, from one side to the dock to the next. Until The Cliffgate.
You had barely been able to approach it, intimated by the size and its look, all black and red and busy with people. Pirates, your mind had whispered.
“Need anything, soldier?” A voice had said in your ear, a red tail swirling around your wrist.
You had jumped, tugging up your hood so you’d stay hidden, before you saw the form of the one who had talked to you. Tall and muscular and…
Fingers pinched at your back, and you jumped, eyes awoken from your memory, turning to your mother.
She was mad, you could tell. Your father wasn’t better, face tight.
“Your father was talking to you, daughter,” her voice said in that tone that she had gotten so special at when it came to you.
Threatening, menacing, always a weapon against you.
She didn’t have that tone with your older sister, long gone from the palace, married and with children.
She didn’t have it with your younger brother either, because he was a boy. He was to be king, in the future.
You were nothing but a daughter to marry off.
You turned to your father with a fake smile, making it as obvious as possible, “Yes, Your Majesty?”
The fingers pinched at your back again, but you didn’t show any pain or expression.
Your father’s disapproving eyes laid heavy on you. You didn’t care.
You were already the disappointment for everyone, since your runaway act.
Six months of disappearing, running away from a marriage. Six months of…
Happiness. It had been happiness. Freedom.
You could still smell the sea, feel the wind in your hair, hear the wood creaking with your footsteps.
You dreamed of it every night, heart longing for home on the sea.
You dreamed of her. Rough hands and red skin and warmth.
Not that you would ever see her again. You knew that. It still hurt.
Your father sighed, “Another suitor is coming in next week. Please, try to be cordial and not make him run away, this time.”
You smiled, knowing you’d do everything in your power for the suitor to go and never come back. Just like you did to every one of them since you were back.
You waved away his concern, leaning back into the chair as he turned back to whatever advisor had been talking to him.
You sighed when their attention was finally gone from you.
Your mind wandered again, fingers itching to tug at the piece of leather that you hid around your wrist. To smooth over the rough edges.