Prisoner Princess

by Caylen McQueen

  Isabella flew through the door. She was foolishly expecting her brother, so when she saw an unfamiliar woman, her shoulders fell.

  Then she noticed the woman's bloodstained shirt, so she asked, “She's injured?”

  “Nah, I'm not injured. I'm just moaning and groaning and having a damn good time.” As she answered the princess' question, Vee ripped off her shirt and threw it to the floor. Isabella looked surprised by the sight of her black brassiere, so Vee said, “Aww... your reaction is cute. Are you surprised I'd strip off my clothes in front of Tommy? Don't worry. He's my best friend. He's seen me naked once or twice. It's no big deal.” Then she turned her attention to Tom, who scrambled around the room, collecting the necessary tools to treat Vee's wound. Pointing at Isabella, she asked, “By the way, is this your new girl? Damn, Tommy! I didn't realize you liked them young.”

  “She's not my girl,” Tom plaintively replied. “And you should probably brace yourself, Vee. This isn't going to feel too pleasant.”

  When she saw him coming at her with a bottle of whiskey, Vee murmured, “Oh god... oh god oh god oh god...” Her fists clenched and her body writhed as he poured the alcohol into her open wound. If he'd sprayed her with fire, it couldn't have possibly hurt worse. “God damn you, Tommy, you bastard! You goddamn bastard!” Vee threw a clenched fist in Tom's direction, but he casually stepped backward, dodging the blow. Whimpering, she claimed the bottle of whiskey from his hand and poured a few swigs down her throat.

  Neither of them noticed that Isabella had disappeared into her bedroom. When she returned, she was carrying a pillow, which she slipped beneath Vee's head. “Here,” she said as she relinquished the pillow to Vee. “I'm sorry you're in pain.”

  A tiny smile lifted Tom's lips when he heard Isabella's sympathy for his friend.

  “Thanks. Believe me, sweetheart, I'm sorry I'm in pain!” Vee took another swig of whiskey. In the corner of her eye, she saw Tom rolling up his sleeves and threading a needle. The sight was more than worthy of the lengthy groan that rattled her throat. “It looks like my pain's not over yet. Now Thomas Harriot the Torturer gets to have his way with me.”

  “I'm sorry,” Isabella said again. She got on her knees next to Vee and gently took her hand. “If you'd like, we can talk. Maybe it'll keep you distracted from your pain.”

  “What's your name, sweetheart?” Vee asked her.

  “Isabella.”

  “Princess Isabella,” Harriot added as he kicked a short stool in the direction of the sofa. “And you're the only person in the world I would trust with that secret, Vee, so you better keep it to yourself!” When he sat beside her, his needle glinted ominously.

  “Ah, Princess! It's lovely to meet you!” Vee exclaimed. When Tom's needle pricked her skin the first time, she squeezed the princess' hand a little bit harder. “I met your brother, you know. Tommy couldn't kill him either. Everyone acts like they're so scared of him, but Tom's just a big softie, I swear to god. Hell, I'd swear it to all the gods. My friend Tommy is actually a nice guy in a scary maskaaaahh!” When his needle pierced her again, Vee clenched her teeth and chuckled. “Actually, I take that back. He's an evil shit.”

  Tom didn't deny it, he just winked. Then he leaned closer to Vee's wound, trying to get a better look at his stitching.

  “I'm still on the fence, to be honest,” Isabella confessed. “Sometimes I think he's an evil shit, but sometimes...”

  “Sometimes he's charming, right?” Vee attempted to finish Isabella's thought.

  Isabella shrugged. “Well, I don't know if I'd say charming, but he doesn't seem completely terrible.”

  “Not completely terrible,” Harriot repeated with a chuckle as he continued to stitch Vee's wound. “When I die, I want those words etched into my tombstone. I think they'd fit me perfectly.”

  Vee's eyelashes fluttered as Tom's needle plunged in and out of her. She tried to convince herself it wasn't any worse than getting a tattoo—but it was a lie. It was much worse. After taking another swig of whiskey, she said, “So, Isabella... about your brother. He was nice. I felt bad taking him away from his family, but at least we didn't kill him.” She turned her attention to her doctor-torturer. “Oh, and... uh... Tommy... now would probably be a good time to tell you he got away.”

  Harriot's needle momentarily halted. “What?”

  “Yeeeah...” Vee chuckled nervously. “Nico escaped from the brothel. Those damn guards were so incompetent!”

  “So where is he now?” asked Harriot, resuming his stitching.

  “I have no idea. I haven't seen him for quite a few days now. He could be dead, for all I know!” To Isabella, she added, “Sorry.”

  Isabella patted Vee's hand. “It's okay. As long as I know Nico might be out there somewhere, I'm alright. A few days ago, I thought he was dead, so... having some hope is better than having no hope.”

  “You can say that again,” Vee agreed. “Oh, and by the way... Tommy, do you mind if I crash here for a bit? I've got nowhere else to go, and your place seems as good as any.”

  “Of course.” When he reached the end of his stitching, Harriot leaned down and nibbled the thread with his teeth, separating it from the excess. “And there. You're all done!”

  “Thank god!” Vee cried. “Oh, and... Tommy? Can you get my dog, Seelo? I left him on one of Eversio's airships.”

  “You want your dog to stay here?” As he dragged both hands through his tousled black curls, Tom was groaning. “I don't know if I want a dog, Vee.”

  “Don't be an ass! You know Seelo. He barely causes any trouble at all.”

  “So you say. Just wait until he births another log on my pillow!”

  Vee innocently cocked her head. “Aww... did Seelo do that?”

  “Yes! Your memory can't be that bad, can it? And as I recall, you laughed.”

  “I didn't laugh!”

  “Alright, fine. But you chuckled. You chuckled hard.”

  As she listened to their banter, Isabella was smiling for the first time in ages. She was glad for Vee's company. Even if she didn't completely trust her, Isabella was glad to be in the company of another female.

  “It's funny to hear you call him Tommy,” Isabella suddenly spoke up. “You must really be his friend, because I don't think he'd let anyone else get away with that.”

  “You're right,” Vee said, returning Isabella's smile. “He barely even lets me get away with it.”

  For the next few seconds, Isabella studied Thomas' mask. She avoided talking about it because of the way he reacted to it, but her curiosity was too much to bear. So she asked, “Have you ever seen him without his mask?”

  “I have.” Vee nodded slowly, because she knew it was a touchy topic for her friend. “I think I'm the only one who's ever seen it... aside from his father, I suppose.”

  “You're the only one who's seen it in the last decade,” Tom corrected her and crossed his arms. As soon as his hands were tucked away, Vee leaned forward and lifted the mask from his face. She did it so quickly, he didn't have a chance to stop her. When he tried to reclaim it, Vee held the mask behind her back.

  Isabella was quiet as she studied Tom Harriot's face for the first time. The left side of his face, which was usually hidden behind the mask, was a twisted mass of flesh. Where his face used to be, there was an awful chasm of pink and red scars, stacked on top of each other, spanning all the way from his forehead to his ear. He didn't try to cover it, as Isabella suspected he might. He sat silently on his stool, letting her soak it in.

  “Are you both done gawking at me?” he finally asked, in a voice as cold as ice. “Because if you are, I'd like you to return my mask.”

  Tom held out his hand, but Vee didn't obey him. She kept the mask behind her. “So, what do you think?” she asked the princess. “It's not so bad, is it? I don't know why he has to wear this silly thing. Tom's a handsome bastard either way.”

  “Now you're mocking me.” Tom rose from his stool and reached behind her, wrenching the mask f
rom Vee's hand. As soon as he reclaimed it, he turned away from the women and stamped to his room.

  “I'm not mocking you, I'm absolutely serious! I think you're a handsome man, Tommy... or I would think that... if I actually liked men.” Vee glanced at Isabella and shrugged. In a whisper, she prompted the princess, “say something nice to him.”

  “I-I don't think it's so bad, Tom,” Isabella tried to reassure him, even though it was a lie. Ever since she saw his face, her body wouldn't stop tingling. His scars were even worse than she expected. “I wouldn't worry about it. I think it's, uh... it's...” Isabella didn't know what to say, so her thought drifted away and never returned.

  Without another word to either of them, Tom Harriot slipped into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

  Twelve

  “This is Ella, by the way,” Kieran introduced her to Tobias, who carefully climbed from the motocarriage. He had so many injuries, even the slightest motion could be excruciating.

  “It's lovely to meet you, Ella,” Tobias responded. He hoped his pained grimace wasn't too obvious.

  They were parked in front of a hotel in Sharlitte, far away from the chaos of the capital. Lyneah wanted to rest and check Tobias' wounds, so she begged him to make a stop. Once again, Kieran was the only one with any significant amount of money in his pockets, so he ended up paying for their room. According to Kieran, even his funds were limited, so they had to share a single bedroom.

  “Kieran took me to the capital to find medicine for my younger brother,” Ella told her story as they climbed the stairs to their room. “It took us a day and a half to find the right bottle, but we finally did. As you know, the capital was in total turmoil. There were riots, thugs... thieves. As we traveled from pharmacy to pharmacy, Kieran had to defend me several times, and I can't even begin to express my gratitude. I'm just glad he was with me.” When they reached the bedroom door, Ella dipped a hand into her reticule, searching for the medicine. She had an irrational fear of losing it. Every time her fingers brushed the bottle, she breathed a secret sigh of relief.

  “I'm indebted to Kieran as well,” Lyneah chimed in. “In a pinch, there isn't a better man to have at your side.”

  “Except for Francis Doon, maybe,” added a shrugging Tobias.

  “Tobey!” Kieran gasped the younger man's name as they shuffled into the room. “How dare you! That's the worst possible thing you could say to me! Don't make me regret saving you, boy!”

  “Sorry,” Tobey weakly apologized. As soon as he sat on one of the beds, Lyneah leapt beside him and tore his shirt over his head. “Hey!”

  “I want to see your wounds,” she explained. To her surprise, they weren't as terrible as she expected. His bullet wounds were bandaged, and the lashes from the whip had been meticulously cleaned. Though she hated to think of her fiance in pain, the sight of Tobias' back was somewhat less ghastly than the bloody mess she was picturing in her mind. “Someone doctored you?”

  “Uh huh. A man named Jackal took care of me.”

  “Then I suppose I should be grateful to him.”

  “No. Don't be.” As he remembered Jackal's inappropriate caresses and kisses, Tobey's nose wrinkled. It was one story he would never share with Lyneah. “He was twisted and weird. Nothing would make me happier than never seeing his face again.”

  “Not even a kiss from your fiance could make you happier?” Lyneah asked.

  “Alright...” he conceded with a grin. “Maybe one thing would make me happier.”

  As Tobias and Lyneah locked lips, Kieran and Ella exchanged awkward glances. The two lovers were so wrapped up in each other, they forgot they weren't alone. Their kiss lasted so long that Kieran finally cleared his throat and said, “Damn... get a room. Your own bloody room.”

  Tobias was blushing as Lyneah's mouth left his. While he wasn't thrilled to have an audience, it felt good to kiss her after everything he had been through. For some time, he thought he'd never see her again.

  “So... Kieran and I will probably head to Bordeaux tomorrow,” Ella said, hoping it wasn't too presumptuous of her. Kieran had already been far too generous. He paid for their hotel rooms, he protected her, and he never got the payment he was promised. Ella had no idea how to properly express her gratitude. She certainly wasn't rich enough to give him a proper reward. At the end of it all, he would be lucky to get muffins and pennies.

  “What's in Bordeaux?” Lyneah asked.

  “It's my hometown. I need to get back to my brother... Your Highness.” Ella timidly nibbled on her lip. She kept forgetting she was talking to a queen. “What's your next destination, Queen Lyneah?”

  “That's... a very good question.” While Tobias was in peril, Lyneah never dedicated much thought to her next move. Her airships were commandeered by Eversio, and her knights had been eradicated. She had no money, and no easy way to get back home. Her best bet was to write to Roderick and explain the situation. If he knew what happened, Roderick would surely send aid. She almost told Ella of her plan, but any mention of her former lover's name made Tobias go quiet, so she simply said, “I really don't know.”

  Ella laid down in bed and tugged a blanket to her chin. Every time she stayed in a hotel, it felt luxurious compared to the squalor back home. She started to close her eyes, but when she felt Kieran lay down beside her, her eyes snapped open. “What are you doing?”

  “Resting,” Kieran said. “I just want to rest. I had a difficult day, you know.”

  “So... wait... what?” Ella sat up. “Am I expected to share a bed with you?”

  “I guess not.” Sighing, Kieran rose from Ella's bed, retrieved an extra blanket, and relocated to the rug on the floor. He couldn't ask the ladies to forfeit their comfort, and he couldn't ask Tobias to move, not when the young man had suffered so much. Even though he had paid for their room, Kieran was the only one who could realistically make the sacrifice. Nevertheless, he felt sorry for himself. He pulled a blanket over his head and grumbled loudly.

  “I feel... bad,” Ella pouted. “Kieran, do you want the bed? I could sleep on the floor instead.”

  Kieran's answer was short and frigid. “No.”

  “I really wouldn't mind sleeping on the floor. To be honest, it wouldn't be much different than what I'm used to back home! It's--”

  “No,” Kieran repeated more firmly. “I'm happy on the floor. I like the floor. Don't mention it again!”

  When their debate concluded, Lyneah asked, “Do you think we could come with you to Bordeaux?” She glanced at Tobias, making sure he didn't object. “For the moment, we really don't have anywhere else to go. Being with you would be safer than being alone.”

  “Are you sure? Bordeaux's a real pile of shit... no offense, Ella,” Kieran said. “Do you think a pampered queen could handle that?”

  “Do you really doubt that I could?” Both of Lyneah's eyebrows raised. “It's as if you've forgotten all about me, Kieran! I'm offended!”

  Kieran tucked an arm under his head, using it as a pillow. “Well then... welcome aboard, Your Majesty. It'll be just like old times, but better.” He turned his attention to the other woman in the room and winked. “Now we've got Ella with us.”

  Thirteen

  When Harriot presented her with a full plate of breakfast, Isabella wasn't sure if she should thank him or not. He made all of her favorites. Hotcakes. Bacon. Scrambled eggs. Before he started cooking, he even asked how she wanted her food prepared. She felt like she should thank him, since he was clearly trying to get back into her good graces, but Isabella couldn't forget that he was part of the group that killed her father.

  “You wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for Tommy, you know,” Vee suddenly said, as if she was reading Isabella's mind. “If you would've run into anyone but him, they'd have killed you on the spot. And they certainly wouldn't be making you breakfast!” Vee pilfered a slice of bacon straight from Harriot's skillet and shoved half into her mouth. “Damn, this is good! You're a surprisingly good cook.”

&n
bsp; “Thanks, Vee. But... haven't I cooked for you before?”

  “Hell no. I've known you for ages, but I've never seen you cook for anyone but Isabella. You must be sweet on her.”

  Isabella could feel her cheeks growing warm as she studied Harriot's expression, but his mask made him difficult to read. He had gone back to wearing it, which didn't surprise her.

  “How's your wound?” Harriot asked Vee, opting to change the subject.

  “It's not so bad. You did a good job, Dr. Harriot.” Vee lifted her shirt, letting him have a look at it. “And I'm a fast healer.”

  “You owe me one,” Harriot said, then he pointed in the direction of the adjacent room, where her dog was relieving himself on his favorite chair. “Actually, now you owe me two.”

  “I owe you one. Or does getting the prince to Bordeaux not count as a favor?”

  “Not if he left Bordeaux!” Tom exclaimed. “I was supposed to take Isabella to her brother, but now I can't take her if I don't know where he is!”

  “Well then... maybe you should have taken Nico yourself, since you think you could've done the job so much better!”

  “I couldn't! You know I was busy!”

  Vee rolled her eyes and snorted. “Yeah... you were too busy falling for the princess, apparently!”

  As she listened to their argument, Isabella nibbled on her hotcakes. To her surprise, Thomas Harriot was an accomplished chef. Everything was cooked to perfection. Vee's dog must have thought so too, because he was sitting at Isabella's heels, begging for food. Seelo was a mangy, scraggly mutt, but Isabella couldn't resist his sullen eyes, so she slipped him a bit of bacon.

  “I haven't fallen for the princess,” Tom stiffly responded to Vee's accusation. “I only want to protect her.”

  “Protect her... and bed her,” Vee added with a grin. “I see the way you look at her when she enters the room. Admit it. You're smitten, Tommy. You're so smitten.”

  “I've heard enough of this!” Grumbling curses to himself, Harriot left the table and stomped to the door. Vee wanted to tell him he looked like an angry child, but he was already shooting daggers with his eyes, so she kept the thought to herself.