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Lothar appears in the room holding out an iron poker. At the end of it is my brand, not quite red-hot but it will do the job.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “You mind coming in here and holding up her dress?”
“No, please,” the princess pleads, yanking again at the restraints to no avail. She doesn’t understand why I’m doing this and that’s fine with me. It’s not just a matter of possession, it’s for her own good.
Lothar’s usually impassive face twists into a wicked grin as he comes into the cage and hands me the poker. It’s hot on my palm, burning into my skin, but I enjoy this particular pain. Perhaps she will too.
He goes behind her and holds her dress up gathered around her waist and now I take the iron and aim it at the fleshy part of the side of her hip.
“It will only hurt for a moment, luv,” I tell her before pressing the brand into skin.
She lets out a howl as it sizzles and I promptly remove the brand to admire my handiwork. Her skin is burned a bright red where my mark has been left behind: a skull and crossbones with my initials RB. Crude but elegant, in my opinion.
The princess is still whimpering so I tell Lothar to grab me a bottle of rum from the galley, as well as some apples and hardtack. While he goes, I head over to the trunk that belonged to the princess and rummage through it for a dress. They’re all fancy, each composed of many layers which will need to be pinned on, none of which will do her any good on a ship. I pick a light blue one that has the least amount of frivolity. We like to dress well, but you still have to be practical at sea.
“Here,” I say to her, bringing it over, along with new stays and a chemise. I toss it at her feet. “You’ll want to change into something clean, I reckon.”
“Go to hell,” she seethes.
“Been there already,” I tell her just as I see Lucas walking past on the main deck. “Lucas!” I yell after him. “Be a good lad and bring me a bucket of water, soap, and a washcloth.”
He nods and runs off.
I turn back to the princess. “You can drink the water. Piss in it. Bathe in it. It’s all up to you.”
She just scowls at me, her features contorting into something fearsome and for a moment I almost see her as someone else. No, not someone else.Somethingelse.
Unhuman.
I stare at her, trying to grab hold and dissect this curious feeling that sounds alarm bells in my gut. There’s something not right about her. There’s something inside of her that she keeps buried out of fear and I’m starting to see that whatever it is that lives in her and gnaws away at her bones is dying to come out and play.
“What?” she snaps.
I know I’m still staring at her openly and I don’t give a wit.
I tilt my head. “Curious creature, aren’t you? So much rage for such a small woman.”
She frowns. She’s short, but she’s by no means a waif. She’s got a lot of meat on her bones, which I appreciate heartily.
Lucas comes in the room, breaking my gaze.
“Here you go, Captain,” he says placing the bucket of water at my feet and holds out a washcloth and a bar of soap.
“Thank you, nephew,” I tell him and nod at him to run along. He does so, passing Lothar who has the goods from the galley gathered in a sack.
“Put the bag in the cell for the lady,” I tell him.
Lothar puts it inside, giving the princess a leering look.
She snaps her teeth at him which surprises him and he’s a hard fella to shock.
He turns to me and jerks his thumb at her. “She might be unhinged, this one.”
“Aren’t we all,” I say as I dismiss him.
When he leaves, I take the bucket, soap and washcloth and put it in the corner of the cage beside the bag. Then I step out and lock the cage behind me with one of my skeleton keys that hang from my belt.
“There,” I tell her. “You have everything you could possibly need. You’re mine now and you’re safe.”
