Chapter 7: Princess with the Mouth of a Sailor

Thane Drogos "Thane." I knew as soon as I heard my mother's tone, I was fucked. The entire deck silenced. Evelyn stopped shouting her obscenities at me. I stopped laughing at how adorable the profanity sounded coming from Evelyn's sweet voice. "Mother," I replied with a sheepish smile. I kept Evelyn's body pressed firmly against mine, using her to hide my cock's reaction to her struggles. I had expected Evelyn to stop fighting once she realized what she was doing, like a good, modest noblewoman, but she didn't. She bore down tenfold. And as good as Evelyn's body felt moving against mine, her ample ass no longer shrouded with layers of fabric. I could have fought with that spiteful little thing all day, but my mother threw a wet blanket right over me, snuffing out all that heat building inside. My mother's eyebrows came together further, pinching lines along her forehead. She rarely gave me that look anymore, but I knew the disapproving gaze well. I hated it. "Put her down," my mother ordered. She gestured to the men standing around. "What are you lot doing? Get back to work! This deck won't scrub itself." The crewmen scattered. Not only was my mother the former captain, but she was my quartermaster. They reported to her, and she reported to me. The Stanton princess's back pressed against my chest, my arm wound around her small waist. The heat of her skin warmed me through the thin material of my shirt she wore well. Those extravagant gowns and silk robes didn't seem to suit the princess. The loose cotton shirt dipped down between her chest, a trail of freckles decorating the valley of her breasts. I cleared my throat and pressed my lips against Evelyn's ear. "Nowhere to run. Stay put." I swore I heard Evelyn growl at me before she said, "Fine." Slowly, I set her down, my hand still gripping her shoulder. My mother, dressed in brown leather pants, a cutlass hanging from her hip. A feathered hat shrouded her gaze, but it was just as cold as mine. She took several steps forward. "Who is she?" "Long story—" "My name is Princess Evelyn Stanton, and this brute captured me!" she snarled, and jerked out of my grip. Fuck. "I can explain." My mother's eyes darkened, her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, I thought she was going to shove Evelyn overboard and let the sharks feast on her. Have the sirens drag her to the bottom of the ocean. Hatred blazed in her eyes so scornfully I could taste the brimstone in the air. But all my mother said was, "See that you do, son." Evelyn's chest heaved, and I noticed how her eyes shot over to the sea. Goosebumps formed over her arms as she trembled uncontrollably. She was stranded in open water. I wished that I had a blanket within reach for her, to warm her helpless shuddering. My shirt swished above her knees, and I glimpsed the smattering of freckles decorating her sun-kissed thighs. I wasn't the only one. For whatever reason, that didn't sit well with me. My lips pulled back as I addressed my gawking crewmen. "Get to work." Instantly, eyes weren't on the princess anymore as they got to work scrubbing the old bloodstains from the decking. My mother eyed Evelyn intensely. I didn't know what my mother thought, and that made me more uneasy. Finally, she said, "Regardless of who she is. She's cold. Undressed. And terrified." Her gaze returned to me again. "You should know better." I didn't want to tell my mother she was right. "What is she wearing?" my mother asked bitingly. "She fell overboard last night. Rio changed her out of waterlogged clothes." My mother dismissed my comment, but I saw how Evelyn's gaze flickered at my words. "Come now, lass. Let's get you dressed. We have freshly boiled eggs." The gentleness of my mother's tone threw me. I did not expect her to treat a Stanton as softly as she did. She held her hand out, and Evelyn took it with little hesitation. "Get Desmond. Come up with a story to tell the crew. Then send him to meet me in the mess. Do you understand?" my mother instructed. "Aye, ma'am," I returned. Finally, that disapproving gaze left me as she guided Evelyn to one of the lower decks, assuming to get the princess in proper clothes. The girl was smaller than my mother, even more petite than Rio. But anything would look better than my oversized garments practically falling off of her. The deep v-neck granted her the bare minimum for modesty. And not much of that. The image of how her nipples pinched against the fabric plagued me. I wondered if they were as pink as I thought they were. I imagined those curious wide eyes watching me while I tasted the pert rosy peaks of her breasts. Clearing my throat, I gestured Desmond to follow me into my cabin. He had been watching me as my gaze ate Evelyn right up. And I was starving. The handle of a pistol, bearing my coat of arms laid on the ground right outside the broken window. It wasn't much more than a paperweight now, but a reminder nonetheless. Desmond took a breath to ask me about the window. "Don't." I went to my desk, setting the paperweight back down. I unclipped my cutlass and took a seat. Des closed the door behind him. "What was that about?" "What?" I snapped, restacking the papers that had been blown all over my desk. "The girl got out." "That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you staring at that Stanton rat like you wanted to take her back to your bed. I thought you hated the Stantons." "I do hate the Stantons." Brisk sea air permeated my entire room as Desmond took several strides to sit across from me. "Didn't look like it." I took my hat off, putting it on my desk. "I'm not going to explain myself to you. I'm your captain." "And I'm your friend," Desmond fired back. He readjusted the bandana on his head. "It doesn't matter. What do you want me to tell the crew?" "Tell them the truth. We have the princess captive. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with her," I admitted. "Now that the crew has seen her, we can't throw her overboard. I know several crewmen don't condone the murder of women. Especially defenseless ones at that." My gaze shot up to him. How nonchalantly he talked about killing Evelyn. "I wasn't going to throw her overboard, Des." I paused. "Anyway, my mother took her to the mess. I assume she wants to talk to me." Desmond chuckled. "Oh Katarina is going to tear you apart." "Rightfully so," I replied. "Talk to the crew. Watch the girl. I don't want her trying to make an escape again." "Considering how eagerly she took Katarina's hand, it seems she only wants to get away from you," he pointed out, getting up from his seat. He couldn't fault Evelyn for that. "None of the men are permitted to touch her, do you understand?" "Of course, Cap. She'll be perfectly safe," Desmond promised, leaving the room. It was rare to have a crew full of honorable men. But they owed me after I revealed myself and rescued them from drowning. The ship was in flames, the sound of cracking and smoldering wood horrible. I could hear the crew screaming. Some men trapped in the lower deck as it all went down. The rival pirate vessel had shot several cannonballs right through the heart of the hull. I didn't have time to think before it was too late, so I shifted in the dark water. My mother was close behind me. Two sea serpents gathering terrified men, offering our breath to keep them from drowning. We set them upon floating debris, tearing open the wood to save the men underneath. No casualties. A shipwreck with no deaths. Crew walked away without a scratch. We found that rival ship and stole everything they were worth. There we were, the ghosts of the sea serpent vessel, taking back what was taken from us. Safe to say I have nothing to fear from my crew. They were loyal to me and leaned into the tall tales about me. We were larger than life. Gaining a reputation that we were unkillable with a pet dragon. My mother didn't knock when she came into my cabin. She took her hat off, tossing it onto my desk. There was nothing to shroud the fury burning in her gaze. "What the fuck were you thinking?" she hissed, eyes locked on me. "Not mincing words today, then?" "Don't be smart with me, boy," she snarled. "Have you forgotten that the Stantons, who murdered our family, will actively hunt us if they thought we survived?" With every word she drew closer to me like a wound up python, about to spit venom at its prey. "And what? You go out, and fucking kidnap their heir? Their only heir?" She slammed her hands onto my desk, the pens rattling. "What the fuck were you thinking?" My lips tightened into a thin line, and I stood up, meeting her gaze with my own. "I wasn't thinking." She backed up, eyes narrowed into slivers. She gestured with one hand, waiting for me to continue. "I saw her broach, and just… I saw red. I saw what her family did to ours and I… I wanted the Stantons to suffer." My mother's demeanor changed. Her features softened. She sat down at the chair across from me and I soon followed. "I understand, Thane. But that doesn't excuse the big fucking mess you got us into." "I know. I didn't know she was the princess." She hummed. "What are we going to do with her?" "I don't know yet." "Well, let me lay down the options. We can't ransom her. The wrong person comes to the meetup and our identity is revealed. I'm not partial to killing her. I know where Desmond stands, but the girl wasn't even alive when the insurrection took place," she explained carefully. I leaned forward. "What do you suggest then?" "We only have two options. Hand her off to another pirate captain so they can ransom her and do whatever they want to her." A frown curled my lips downward. "I don't like that idea either. We can always maroon her somewhere. No one would ever find her past Siren Bay." I didn't like either of her suggestions. Even though she was right, leaving Evelyn helpless and marooned felt just as awful as giving her to another pirate captain. Captains weren't created equal. Too high of a chance they would hurt her. My mother sighed. "We are on course to safehold. Figure out what to do with her." With a nod, I agreed. Those were the options. Drop her off at a remote island or hand her off to someone else as long as it can't get traced back to us. "I'd like to speak to her." "She doesn't like you very much," my mother remarked. "Called you many names." I laughed suddenly. "Let me guess. Either motherfucker or salope." My mother returned my smile. "Something about how she hopes you get fucked by a fish. She's not confined by English either. Who would think a princess would have a mouth that could make a sailor blush?" "I want to know who taught her that language. Certainly makes conversations with her interesting." The smile fell from my mother's lips. "I'll have Desmond bring her up, but I need to make something very clear." "Go ahead." "If she figures out who we are, I'm going to slit her throat myself. Heard?" I nodded once. "Heard."