A Prince Adrift
Night, once thought to be long, proved fleeting to many. The storm that rose within the palace of Aethelgard was nothing more than a brief disturbance—one that merely grazed the surface of the kingdom’s calm.
The sun rose, illuminating scenes of steel and shattered shields, the halls and walls stained with blood. General Afamefuna only grinned at the sight as his plan began to unfold.
Meanwhile, Alex slowly began to awaken from his forced slumber—but what greeted him was far from expected.
He was propped against the deck of a wooden ship, swaying with the rhythm of the sea. Water splashed against its sides while the wind filled the sails with v, driving it forward.
A sight, indeed—but not one to be enjoyed by a man bound by ropes at both hands and feet.
“What is this?” he muttered, struggling against his restraints as though they might break.
Whispers.
He raised his head.
Two men stood nearby, cloaked in brown. As the wind lifted their capes, he caught sight of green beneath—soldiers’ uniforms… and one familiar face.
“Obinna,” he called, recognition flashing in his eyes.
“What is the meaning of this nonsense?” His blood boiled as his voice rose above the crash of the waves. “Why are we on a ship? Where are we going?”
Obinna approached, unfazed by his prince’s cries. “Good morning, my prince.”
“Keep your greetings to yourself and answer me.”
Obinna paused, the thought of lying never crossing his mind. “We are on a ship to Duracrete.”
“WHAT?!” Alex’s shout echoed across the deck.
A hand came down on his head. “Keep your voice down,” Obinna cautioned. “We are not alone on this ship—don’t be a nuisance.”
“How dare you hit me?” Alex lunged, foreheads colliding with a thud. He fell onto his stomach, sending Obinna sprawling onto his back.
Obinna groaned, instinctively touching his forehead where it stung. “You arrogant…” he muttered, pausing before letting out a sigh and sitting up properly. “I know you are angry because we were not able to save Her Highness.”
He leaned forward, helping the prince to sit. “My prince, we have no plan, no troops. Clearly, we are outnumbered.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. It was obvious—but even so, he wanted to try. Even if it meant taking her place, he had to try.
Lowering himself onto the deck, he asked, “What about Jidenna?”
“Do you genuinely care, or are you asking just to hit him?” Obinna raised an eyebrow.
“What a stupid question.”
Obinna scoffed. “Obinna has stayed to remain our eyes and ears, pending our return.”
Alex let out a brief sigh. “Then tell me…” He turned to his back and to his feet. “Why am I bound?”
Obinna did not answer immediately, his gaze turning away. “You are a handful when mobile.”
“Excuse you?”
“You know I speak the truth.”
“What useless truth do you speak of? Untie me this instant.”
Obinna stared blankly at the prince. Rising from the floor, he hovered over him like a shadow, menacing. “On one condition.”
“Which is?” Alex cocked his head.
Obinna leaned in closer, their faces inches apart. “You behave. Else I will not only bind you, but stuff you in a barrel and present you to your father.”
A chill ran through Alex’s spine. He knew that look all too well—the look of someone who would follow through, no matter rank or status.
“U-understood,” he stammered.
Obinna leaned back, a smile spreading across his face. He pulled out a small knife, its blade glinting in the sunlight.
A cold sweat dripped from Alex’s forehead, but luckily, it was nothing to worry about.
SNAP!
SNAP!
The ropes were cut. Finally, freedom.
Alex rubbed his wrists, calm settling in his mind.
“The current is strong. If we continue day and night, we should reach Duracrete in five days and four nights,” Obinna informed him.
“That’s good, I suppose.” He turned to the waves ahead. “Have you sent word by pigeon?”
Obinna shook his head. “No response.”
“Then we shall wait.” Alex walked to the bow of the ship, his mind heavy as it replayed the words of the princess.
“I’ll be waiting.”
“I’ll come for you, my dear,” he whispered, his heart beating with a drive he had never known before.
