Dinning With Beasts
Ray'ven sat in the furthest corner of the room, far away from the man who sat watching her with a smug look on his face. He had worn it ever since the ship had set sail away from the base and away from her father. He had not allowed her to leave his presence, a way to rub his victory in her face. It did not help that the other men in the room were boasting loudly.
"Did ya see the look on his face! Ha, the bastard thought that he would win this!" One shouted, arm draped around his buddy's shoulder they laughed together.
"He thought that he would best us, the fucking bastard! But our captain outsmarted him!"
Ray'ven's hands clenched into fist as they continued. Loud and obnoxious. 'My father will not fail the next time. You are the fools.' She hissed in her mind before she felt an arm sling around her waist.
Razmyr pulled her flush against his front. "And I held her just like this, dangling his precious daughter a foot away yet he still couldn't reach her."
His palm pushed her head, their gazes meeting. "How did it feel to see your father fail for once, all because of you too? I should be grateful."
Ray'ven pushed at his chest forcefully, glaring at him, her jaw set. He was trying to rile her up, wanted her to lash out at him, but she would not give him the satisfaction. She bit her tongue, holding back the sour words that she so wished to say.
"Release me." She ordered, trying to pull herself away from his tight hold. His smug face made her want to punch him.
The pirate lord had only blinked before he gripped the back of her neck and slammed the side of her face against the table, moments later his mouth hovering by her ear. "This isn't your kingdom, princess. It's mine, and soon enough you won't even have your own to rule over. I will have that too while you and your father gravel on your knees. Here, your orders are equivalent to a child when they demand their parents deliver them toys, or the people who beg your father for mercy from his tyranny. Your hissyfits won't get you anywhere."
He then shifted her head where her gaze would meet the crowd of his people around the table. "Look around, you've fallen from grace. If they hear you talking to their lord like that, they may take more than your pride and your crown; their hunger doesn't stop at food.
Pushing her up and down, he forced her into the chair next to him.
The side of her face burned, a fresh bruise already forming there. She glared down at the table, listening as the men all laughed. They were wrong, he was wrong. His treatment only fueled her resolve. She would not break, refused to and he would realize just how strong the blood of the Aldain was. Her mother had alway told her that she was a stubborn child, and this was a challenge.
She closed her eyes, almost as if in prayer. 'Father, I will stay strong. The strength you gave me will destroy his false throne.'
The men feasted for what felt like hours and Ray'ven's nose wrinkled at the spittle and food that flew from their mouths as they spoke loudly, snorting and grunting like pigs. The lips were pressed in a thin line, and she felt physically sick from watching them. Her eyes caught Strelitzia's from across the room, but her cousin seemed to be avoiding her gaze.
Ray'ven lips pulled into a frown and she sat back in her seat, arms crossed. Strelitizia had been with her father before they were taken again, and if he had known already what happened in that meeting, then he would not have been pleased with Strel in the least. Sighing, she stopped trying to get her attention.
"May I go to my rooms...please?" She asked.
Strelitzia noticed her little cousin trying to catch her gaze but she couldn't bring herself to meet the princess' eyes. In those eyes she was sure all she'd see was the same disappointment and betrayal that her father held. Even though the younger girl probably needed her, she averted her gaze.
"No you may not, princess." Razmyr mocked her tone and slunk down into his bone crafted chair, lashes fluttering tauntingly. "We have something to discuss between you and your cousin. About those entrances and exits."
All his men chuckled and snorted, listening closely as their lord spoke. They couldn't wait until they'd made an official strike on the king outside of his daughter.
Ray'ven bit her lip, staring down at the table. She had no choice it would seem. "Very well, I-I will tell you." She said, voice barely above a whisper, the silence in the room was deafening.
There it was. The reason why Strelitzia was forced to sit through the nonsense. All the boasting didn't bother her any.
His eyes squinted. "Well, since your cousin has already marked one, you need to be prepared tomorrow. I might need you again to bring your pathetic father to his knees once more, considering Bynx, as I've heard, has a big mouth; he's probably already told your father where I'll attack first. James will take you for the attack on the embassy, and I'll take Strelitzia to the armory. But,"
His dagger flung from his hand and between the space of Strelizia's fingers. "That's after you mark all the other entrances and exits. Now."
One of his men rested the map in front of her, the stench of his breath on her cheek.
"She wouldn't know all of them." Ray'ven said. "She may be my cousin, but father does not trust that easily."
"Is that so? Then why don't you get the fuck up and mark them then. God," He rubbed his temples. "I thought Aldaine's were supposed to be smart."
Ignoring his remark, Ray'ven slide the map across the table until it rested in front of her. Swiftly, she marked an "x" near all of the exits and entrances from her memories of the last time she had visited. Of course, they may have changed over time, but it was what he asked for.
"There, this is all of them." She pushed the map away.
"That's good enough, I'll speak with James in case things go sour. Baeron will be with you, so you should behave Ray'ven. He doesn't particularly care for royalty." Pulling a chunk of meat from the whole chicken, he stuffed it into his mouth. "Enjoy your feast, tomorrow you will fight like the rest of us. That or die."