The sun was setting, and Adelaide could hear the cry of seagulls above the ship.
It was nearing the island; sailing steadily closer and closer to her doom.
Her only hope the slim, slim possibility that Iolas had somehow made his way back to Aelford, but she knew chances of that were low. If such a thing we're to happen, if by some good graces he did manage to gather the armies, storm the island and defeat these invaders; by the time he arrived here... she would have already been ruined.
Married, forced upon, and more then likely carrying the seed of a disgusting barbarian. More war prize than ruler.
Adelaide forced herself to stop thinking between only those two plausible scenarios, and instead she found herself wishing for the best.
Maybe he would make it to her in time.
Maybe their combined armies could defy all odds and defeat an enemy they were so clearly outnumbered by. Maybe they could go home safely.
Then her mind wandered even further, to a more personal, but further treacherous place.
Maybe Iolas wouldn't have to return to his kingdom right away.
She allowed herself to fantasize.
Maybe he could stay for a little while, or longer than a little while. Maybe he and I could get...
She was violently snapped out of her maybes by a bundle of cloth being thrown at her
"Put it on." Snarled the one called Groaa. She looked up to find that the Captain was once again back in the brig. He, along with several of his goons had gathered around her cell.
The queen had been in such a haze that she hadn't even noticed their entry.
A basin, brush and washcloth had been passed through the bars and now laid out at her feet. She grabbed the bundle and unsteadily rose to her feet.
It was a crimson garment, and what looked like a rather delicate red dress, but the type of gaudy, lady of the night red that clashed so horribly with her hair.
"What is this for?"
She asked through narrowed eyes.
"Its wedding attire for the blushing bride."
Groaa mocked her before his superior sent him a look that clearly stated to shut up.
"Clean yourself up and dress properly to meet your betrothed."
Said the Captain.
The queen looked down at her nightdress. The once pristine white fabric was now caked in mud and dirt from the floor. She didn't at all look like a regal royal.
"I will do no such thing!" She spat.
"That dress looked like something a cheap harlot would wear! I will not make myself up for a husband I do not wish to marry. He will not marry a delicate flower, regal queen, decorated in perfume and jewels. I will not be displayed like a diamond in a glass case. No, let this monster marry the girl of whose country he destroyed. I'd rather be the war prize in the disheveled nightdress, a physical representation of what has been done to my beloved kingdom!"
He didn't argue, he didn't even answer. Instead he just nodded to his guards.
On cue her cell was unlocked and two of them stepped inside. Her heart pounded in her chest as the sense of fear quickly spread. Two of the men grabbed her arms and lifted the woman as easily as one might lift a quill to paper. Adelaide struggled but it was useless. They held her firmly as a third man appeared with a washcloth in hand. This one began violently scrubbing her face and neck with the coarse rag. She uttered not a word, but never ceased trying to break free.
He then inhumanly yanked at her hair before running a whale bone brush so hard through her hair she thought her scalp would bleed. Next the captain stepped inside and picked the dress up that she had tossed to the floor.
"Now you can either dress yourself, or my men will do it for you!"
The Captain sneered.
Adeleide relented, and they turned so she could change, but did not leave the cell. After she had forced her body into that red, very revealing disaster, they clamped her wrists in irons and paraded her off the ship, preening like peacocks at the great war prize they had obtained. The last remaining monarch of Aelford. Adelaide wanted to keep her head high, like a queen should always do, but her gaze trailed the ship's hull in sadness.
Xander would've kept his head up.
Her brother had always been so good at maintaining his composure, no matter the circumstance.
But he's gone and I'm not him.
The raft was lowered into the water. She finally lifted her head to take the surroundings, realizing that this was the first time she'd ever been anywhere other than Aelford.
The rays of the setting sun gave the water a heavenly glow, and she could see the Gilah Island ahead. As a child she'd often heard of its great beauty, and the tales were no lie, it was just too bad that the monarch was in no mood to appreciate it.
YOU ARE READING
A Thorn In The Ice
Historical Fiction"I fully expected you to say that I was the sort of Prince whose story would involve going into cahoots with the dragon, rather than slaying it." Iolas smiled, but their was a level of seriousness to his statement. "That is where you are wrong, de...
