Chapter 1

The Royal Castle, located in the Enchanted Forest, a brother castle to King Midas' castle just slightly off from the high road, was where Prince Killian Jones was now.

He didn't have much of a choice but to play the part of Prince, even being the firstborn of the current King, his father, King Brennan, Killian knew though that his father would much rather have Liam, his younger brother to ascend the throne, to be the next rightful heir, though that was more complicated now as originally planned, given that young prince Liam, only another one year younger than him, hadn't been seen for the better part of a year.

Killian sat at the Royal Castle's council table, his feet crossed at the ankles under the large round table, their family emblem painted in the center of the masterful woodwork, one elbow was propped up on the edge of the table, one wrong move would risk his elbow slipping and him catching his funny bone, which he really wanted to avoid. He rested his cheek in his hand, his other hand picking at the edge of the wooden table, nails slightly scratching the edge of it as this had been a habit for weeks, he needed to find his brother but after two weeks of searching and sending the castles guards out to look, there had been no such evidence of his brother anywhere and the King had halted the search, hence, why the prince now felt even more uncomfortable in his attire, his dark brown hair slicked back so much it almost looked completely black, the black Prince's uniform with matching black breeches, with silver linings and light gold embroidery of their family crest on the chest of his vest, tightly fitted to his frame felt even more uncomfortable to sit in.

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The tavern buzzed with noise tonight, likely because it was packed with rowdy pirates who had one too many to drink. Emma occupied a table tucked away in the corner, a half-eaten loaf of bread beside her tankard of rum. She had just gotten back from traveling to a different realm and had been glad to welcome the warmth of the tavern, even though she did cherish being on her ship. Her attire—a white t-shirt layered beneath a dark red vest with a belt and black trousers— provided some defense against the chill, complimented by the black cloak draped over her shoulders.

Letting out a small sigh, she pushed the bit of bread away from her, which was slightly stale although she had eaten quite a bit of it. Not having realized she had been hungrier than she had thought when she had arrived at the tavern, she planned to head out to the ship soon but for now, she would stay in the tavern, not able to help but roll her eyes at the other pirates who seemed to be getting louder, at least that's how it sounded to her.

While Emma understood that the tavern owner wouldn't dare to evict any of the pirates, she also recognized herself as one of the most formidable pirates around. She knew that most patrons hesitated to provoke them unless they were prepared to face the consequences.

The tavern itself was a cozy place, it's warmth provided to the customers made them happy the moment they stepped through the door even on a sunny day. There was a fireplace at the back wall of the tavern, the light of the fire casting a soft orange glow over some of the tavern, you could see the shadows of the pirates closest to it flickering, as though their shadows were alive, dancing along the walls and the floor. The slight crackle of the fire, of the cut wooden logs was a calming sound, though rarely heard over the sound of the pirates, usually drunk, so if you could hear it, you could consider yourself lucky that day.

The smell of the burning wood could be nice for some people, yes, to even the most formidable pirates too, the soft crackle, the smoke and ash that was slightly coming from it, a reminder to some of the crisp days of fall and winter evenings. Such a thing was made possible only by the chemicals released as the wood burned, called pyrolysis.

The type of tree cut down and used in this fire seemed to be from a Cherry tree, which would make sense especially as it was one of the easiest to cut and split, once halved one could already smell the aroma emanating from it's core, which was probably why when it burned the wood gave off a wonderful scent, like a subtle, sweet and fruity aroma, not that any of the pirates would pay attention to that.

The tavern that Emma was sat in now was located just opposite the docks, in a small town not too far from the kingdom, it was a small place but busy, and the tavern too never seemed to be quiet, one upside of having the tavern so close to the water. Strong wood built the structure, fixed and welded in place, the structure holding strong from any wind or storms outside, a dependable shelter. The tavern itself was called: The Seafarer's Blade

The tavern itself welcomed everyone in, a wooden sign with the tavern name written in black elegant letters, hanging just above the door, fixed with black hinges, was a relief to see by others, especially those who were tired from their latest travels or plundering and needed a meal or some rest. The tavern on either side was mostly surrounded by trees, a mix of Cherry, Pine, Birch, and apple trees, some cut down for the fire and others used for the aroma they released and used during cooking to bring a soothing scent and flavor when smoking the food.

The tavern was constructed of wood, strong rich wood, along one of the beams that ran by the door were engravings of the names of pirates who would visit often, usually scratched in by a knife, some were so old they almost faded into the wood itself, as though they were one with it, some were fresh and others had been gone over so much that they looked unrecognizable. Wooden beams crisscrossed the high ceiling, the color fading from brown to a deep orange as the wood traveled across the fire below. The tavern had wooden tables, benches, and stools placed around them which was the heart of all entertainment. The main bar itself was possibly the nicest area of the whole tavern, polished mahogany which was hard and rare to come by, but in a town like this, it wasn't a problem, though the only thing that seemed to appeal to the pirates in the room was the bread, ale, and beds that were on the next floor above them.

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Killian wished that he could say he was the least bit interested in what his father had to say, but he wasn't. Any small interest existing had died the day his father had stopped the search for his brother, the thought still made him clench his jaw and a shiver ran up his spine. He zoned out, slightly tilting his head sideways to gaze at the tall glass window that showed him some of the castle and the kingdom he was supposed to rule one day, if he could help it he would never be king.

He wished he could be literally anywhere else right now, literally anywhere, whether it was hiding in the streets with the poor, the very ones who used to be thriving and joyous and excited until King Brennan took to the throne and issues upon issues arose and the spirits and health of the people declined. Or he wished he could be hiding in the stables with his Horse, he'd much rather have a conversation with the stallion he'd had since he was a boy, or hiding out in the woods, maybe he could get lost in the Enchanted Forest, perhaps if he was lucky enough he could get lost in the infinite forest, leave his father all alone in the large castle, with no heirs and no Queen to keep him company, the thought brought a smile to his face.

He was drawn back, unfortunately, to reality by his father's hand slamming down angrily on the table. His head snapped towards his father, no shock evident on his face, his father had always been short tempered, and quick to anger, it had started when his wife, the Queen, Killian, and Liam's mother had died of a supposed illness, though the details around that were hazy, and his anger and cruelty only expanded -more so in Killian's direction than others - when Liam ran away. "Father." The Prince stated bluntly, luckily they were alone around the Council table but sometimes his temper did not do well for how his subjects saw him.

"Father?" Brennan scoffed and he slowly removed his curled fist from the table. He slowly pushed himself up to stand, the palm of his hands pressed to the table as he towered over Killian with him only being in the seat next to him. "The only boy...I am a father too, is Liam Jones, not you. To you, I am your King." He growled to his firstborn. This only infuriated Killian more. "All this could have been fixed by now! Two weeks!" He snapped making the king quickly mirror the anger that Killian had. "Two weeks?" The king echoed with a stern glare.

Killian scoffed, his nose crinkling slightly and he slightly rubbed his fingers over the dark beard complimenting his sharp jaw. "Two weeks until you gave up on finding your favorite son." He said, eyes boring into him. The king studied him carefully, gaze never breaking and he sat back down on the chair around the council table. "A king does not have favorites. Now leave me be." He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But..." Killian had started to argue back but the cold stern stare that met his own sent a chill through his spine, and it wouldn't be the first time that he thought his father would have no problem locking him in the dungeon if it got him to obey.

Killian scowled and he did a half-arsed bow to his father. "Yes, your Majesty." He said in a deep gravelly voice, he turned swiftly and left the Council room, the guards opening the door for the prince so he wouldn't have to stop, and that was when he made his mind up.

He was going to track down Liam himself.

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Finding herself in the tavern offered Emma a rare sense of peace, a feeling she didn't often experience. She knew it was probably because of the cozy atmosphere and the assurance of having a place to go if she needed to eat or a bed to sleep, even if she preferred to sleep on her ship where she felt the most comfortable. As she glanced around, her eyes swept over the customers, most of them being pirates, she noted but that wasn't unusual with them being near the harbor where pirates frequented, coming and going between their plundering escapades in nearby towns.

"You sure you don't want me to make any of them leave?" Emma asked the tavern owner who was walking by, despite the reputation she could have and how fierce she was, the pirate did have a softer side that none hardly ever saw. She preferred to keep her walls up, finding it hard to trust others at times. She didn't know why, but she would admit she did like the owner of the tavern, the woman had always let Emma stay and eat whenever she wanted, even if the place was closed off for the night. So, Emma found herself wanting to keep an eye on her, and being a pirate herself, she knew how others could be.

The woman shook her head, giving a tiny smile as she placed another mug of rum in front of the blonde, taking the old mug. "They are fine, I'll let you know if that changes." She told the pirate. Emma gave a nod but suspected that she was probably nervous at the thought of making a pirate leave, especially with how ruthless some of them could be.

Sitting in the corner of the tavern at her table, gave Emma the perfect place to be able to watch the front door for any trouble, having made a few enemies over the years, she could make sure no one suddenly tried to surprise her and her sword wasn't too far away, leaning against the wall next to her table for an easy grab.

×××

Killian stormed into his chambers, shoulders shaking with how angry he was, how frustrated his father made him, but he'd always disliked him more after he'd given up on finding Liam, ever since then Brennan had shown a much more firm hand to his firstborn. Killian ran a hand through his slicked back hair and he stood in front of the body length mirror propped up against the wall, his boots heavily stomping on the ground under him as he walked. He sighed and he looked over himself, the Prince's vest, black and silver, the colors of their house, the same colors as the family crest. He slowly looked at his face, he hated his own reflection ever since his brother had disappeared, how similar he looked to Liam, except the similarity of the warmth he'd once had, the same as his brothers, was now gone, replaced with cold and uncaring ones. He looked away from the mirror and his eyes fell onto the Royal chambers he'd grown up in, the same four walls he'd slept in every night.

His eyes landed on the thick blanket in the corner of the room, one of Liam's royal vest shirts rolled up as a makeshift pillow. The corners of his lips almost tugged into a smile, but not quite. This was his favorite memory, at least in this room, he and his brother had always had separate rooms, despite being the firstborn Liam had been put in a more luxurious room close to their father, he himself was in a different wing of the castle altogether, more worn down and aged, the cracks in the stone walls and dusty windows portrayed that. He walked over to the thin blanket on the cold floor and knelt down, the palm of his hand pressing down onto it, he'd refused to let anyone touch it or move it and when the guards had been ordered to try Killian had given them a death stare and very simply and quickly reminded them that he would be king soon and it would be much better for them to be in his favor than to be in debt to him. With that, they had soon left.

His hand clutched tightly onto the blanket, Liam had always found a way, almost every night to sneak into his room, and they'd just stare up at the ceiling together and talk about adventures that they knew could never happen, they were close, they knew when the other was upset, sad or even happy, but now Killian felt nothing, he felt a hole in his heart that even being a king of an entire kingdom could fill. He slowly stood up, reminiscing of the fond memory for a moment longer, and then saw his sword laying at the edge of his bed, propped up against the four-poster bed frame. "I will find you." He promised quietly, his voice briefly reverberating off the ancient stone walls.

When night time came, Killian was ready, he'd kept his black vest top and trousers on but pulled on an overcoat of sorts, the material was folded back around his wrists, heavily cuffed around them, the long tailcoat draped behind him and stopped at the back of his knees, buttoned up at the front by a simple set of silver buttons, he'd undone his vest slightly to tuck it beneath the top layer, more so to hide the creat of his family and sign of royalty from others, he didn't care if the action showed the rough sharp edges of his collarbones or his long chest hair slightly curled together and complimenting the complexion of the chest or the silver chain that showed too, though the ring, his brother's ring, was tucked away just out of sight. He wore his riding boots as they were much more fit for travel and if he had any luck getting to the stables then he'd also be able to travel much further, away from the pain he felt every single day, away from his father and away from the castle that once used to echo the laughs of him and his brother down the corridors, now replaced with the silence and occasionally filled with the snappish, uninterested and sometimes cruel remarks made by the Prince.

He grabbed the ends of the belt and he threaded them through the loops of his leather breeches, his sword tucked away nicely down the side of his leg, silver glimmering blade hidden by the sheathe. He pulled over a piece of black silk material up from his neck, barely any skin in show, and slit it up over his nose, hiding his neck and lower face completely, only his eyes and now messy mop of hair showing to the public eye. He walked down the castle halls, hoping that nobody would recognize him, he kept his head down, sticking to the shadows casted by the barely lit flickering torches along the hall, and crept towards the exit of the castle.

"Halt!" A voice came from behind him.