Rhonda
Captain Willaims
Hangman's Harbour

"So perhaps you understand why a man of good repute, as our King, would not want to be called a pirate. It's a name Mainlanders have cast on our people for hundreds of years. He is a good man and he has a good heart. Those good pirates you speak of, those with freedom and faith in their hearts, they joined our King when he called the true Islanders to his cause. They're Privateers. They fight for every one of us. He fights for every one of us. " He didn't give her a smile, but for only an instant, he saw the Princess in her.

He thought back to the night in the Stormalong inn, where she had asked him if they were to keep her safe. His expression softened. "You too, if you believe in him. His people hate that title. Pirate King." The Captain spit on the ground at the mention of it. "Your Lord is wrong to call him that. He is our King. He ended piracy. They hang here in our harbor. Our port is filled with their bones. He invited you here to see it."
Felicia
**Cyprien de Lysse**
**Hangman's Harbour**

Despite Fleur's intervention, Cyprien still felt the need to right his wrong. However, and for some unkown reason, he did not apoligize. He decided instead to praise the islander king in the most akward way possible:

"In that case, let us meet the King of the Isles," Said the lord of De Lysse. "If these are the trophies he displays on his harbour, I can only wonder what can be found in those rooms you speak about."

One of his guards facepalmed. An eye, it's gaze halfway into cringe and desperation, looked at Campbell from between the fingers of his glove.
Tom
Calypso Kolgrim 
Hangman's Harbor

Everything happened a lot faster than she could expect. When the beggars and people from the other lines started to crowd around the small group of foreigners Calypso immediately put herself in front of Fleur, shielding the girl. Her right hand flew on top of her skirt, pressing on to it she could feel the dagger strapped at her thigh, but avoided taking it out as the guards started to surround them guiding them back to the Harbor.

Not once Calypso had left the side of Fleur, keeping one arm in front of the young Lady to protect her. Calypso's jaw was set and her eyes dark. Every muscle tensed up.

When they finally arrived back to the Harbor, Calypso listened to The words of the Capitan, who towered over Lord Cyprien, registering every word that was spoken so that she could report to Lord Bastien what had happened, but her concentration got interrupted as Fleur spoke. She quickly turned around to shus the girl, but the captain encouraged her to continue. 
Once Fleur was done she could not believe that the little girl had any connection to that arrogant man that was her father. Thank goodness the Captain seemed to appreciate Fleur's intervention and his expression softened.
Calypso turned around giving her a sincere smile and a light caress on her hair "Well done my lady, but please be more careful about speaking out of terms." Whispered her.

Lady Kolgrim thought that maybe now the tension would dissolve, and the misunderstanding gets sorted... That until Lord De Lysse spoke again. The nobleman was showing her his back but if he were to turn around he would get stabbed by her glare... And maybe even by the real dagger concealed under her skirt. What's wrong with the men in this family??
She looked around to the lord's Men hoping someone, *Anyone* Would intervene, but she was met with low glances and facepalms. Was this idiot set to get all of them killed? 

She bit the inside of her cheek so tightly that the taste of iron started to tickle her tongue, her hands curled into fists. She had just reprimanded Fleur about speaking out of terms and she was surely not in the same position as the young lady. But gods, never in her life Calypso had wanted to yell at a man so much, not even at her own father.
Edith
The Docks of Tonate Proper**
 
"For a place called Hangman's Harbor, it is surprisingly short on hanged men," Dennon said, still glancing around in anticipation of seeing one.
 
"They hang them from the city walls, I think," Kirk commented as he shielded his eyes from the sun while watching their travel cargo be unloaded. "Perhaps we'll be able to see some when we get to the mansion. I can't say for sure. My business last time I was here did not take me to that part of the city." He frowned, remembering the disastrous attempt of trying to salvage an antique collection at the Waller residence.
 
"I'm so thirsty," The now disguised Anna Barrmount said as she mopped sweat from her forehead. "Northerners weren't meant to be in ovens like this."
 
"We'll try to find something to drink... Uh," Kirk struggled to remember.
** **

"Braylena," Said Anna, reminding him of her alias taken on to protect the identity of a body double being sent North in her place. The wiser decision might have been to leave her in Ibethiel, but Lucrezia had wanted herself and Kirk to spend every possible moment together.
 
"We *Need* To pick a new name," Kirk muttered.
 
"I think it's a pretty name," Dennon cut in.
 
"It's less pretty knowing that it belonged to your dead girlfriend, made weirder by the fact that it was you who suggested it," Kirk turned his attention to the king.
 
"I'm supposed to be a lady in waiting, am I not? What lady am I supposed to be waiting on? It might make a sad bit of sense if Dennon was keeping me around just because I shared a name with his tragic love-" Anna paused, fanning her eyes. "I'm actually tearing up a bit imagining it."
 
"Good thinking," Dennon complimented.
 
Kirk glared at the two of them. "When I think of a good replacement name, we're changing it!"
 
**. . .**
** **

They were soon found by a delegation from House Maith and escorted to waiting carriages for transport to Maith Mansion, home of their host, Pirate King Bradai Maith. The Ibbish had been invited by the pirate king to the Isles for the festival and to make their nations a bit closer together. Dennon had at first been surprised at the invitation from the most notable seafaring kingdom to his famously landlocked kingdom, but he wasn't going to complain.
 
***A couple weeks earlier in Ibethiel...***
 
Dennon and Verina were standing in the corridor of the castle. "I'll be worried while you're gone. The North is not a pleasant place."
 
Verina smiled. "I'm sure I'll be treated well as Lady Anna's decoy. Besides, I'll be worried about the rest of you here. At least I'll be away from you-know-whom."
 
"Dennon," Lucrezia called out from down the hallway. "You're going to The Southern Isles. Meet me in an hour to discuss it. Bring Kirk with you."
 
"Nice!" Dennon exclaimed but immediately tried to tone down the excitement. "Oh, but good luck in the North though. I'm sure the snow is very pretty. I'll probably get too hot down there anyway." It was too late. The devastation could not be wiped from Verina's face.
** **

***Present day...***
 
Dennon looked out the window of their Maith-sponsored carriage. "That girl leaning against the brothel, she reminds me of our dear friend back home who volunteered to look after your shop while we're away."
 
"Mr. Albury?" Anna asked.
 
"Considering the life he's lived, I wouldn't be surprised if he has a daughter running around," Kirk said, not caring to look himself.
 
"I don't think it would be a daughter, they look about the same age," Said Dennon.
 
The House Maith envoy spoke up. "Would you like me to have the girl brought to your room tonight?"
 
"Uh... No thank you. I'm alright," Dennon said uncomfortably.
 
"Well..." Kirk seemed to mull it over, only for Anna to regard him with horror. "No for me too, I guess. I'm newly married."
 
**. . .**
** **

At Maith Mansion, they were separated from Anna, who went to do the job she was only pretending to have, organizing the luggage in their rooms. Dennon and Kirk were left in a sunny sitting room with a seaside view. The ceiling and walls were made of stone, with the outside wall consisting of rocky pillars to let in light. The staff member that had left them alone there informed the men that they were welcome to help themselves to the decanters of wine and rum while they waited.
 
"It's been so long since I've had rum," Dennon squinted his eyes together from the strength of the liquor in his throat after taking a sip.
 
"I'm just glad to be celebrating the fact that we're on solid ground again," Kirk said, downing the glass in one gulp. They each sat down in the comfortable chairs in the room, waiting for the arrival of their host.
 
"I recall us agreeing a bit during moments on the council floor, but I never really got to speak with Bradai while we were in Taemar. Perhaps I made more of an impression than I thought." Dennon mulled over their purpose for being in the Isles.
 
"A knight gets noticed for his merits. You need to think more like a king. If someone notices you, they probably want something from you."
 
"You think so?" Dennon asked.
 
Kirk raised an eyebrow. "At first, I thought it was just because I'd been to the Isles before. Now I know why Lucrezia wanted me to come along."
 
**. . .**
Rhonda
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
The King's Solar, in the Maith Mansion

Bradai narrowed his eyes as he looked at himself in the mirror on his desk. He had seen Silas inspect himself on a number of occasions, placing his delicate fingers underneath his eyes and chin, pulling back the skin to make it taught, as if to appear younger. Bradai could not remember what the man looked like when they first met, but on account of his Seneschal's preening and primping, the man hadn't seemed to age a day. He, on the other hand, was getting old.

It wasn't something he thought he could avoid. He had surrounded himself with older, wiser men. He had seen their skin begin to sag and their hair start to go grey. It was something he knew would come. He clenched his fist and felt his fingers tighten, pursing his lips at the reflection staring back at him. What blood remained on his cheek was wiped away with his thumb. 

He was forty four years old, but he had the body of a much older man. His joints ached endlessly. He had thought that when he broke free from his bondage as a young man, the slavers would not take anything more from him. But now they were taking his knees and shoulders, giving him stiffness in his fingers when he wrote for a long time and made his eyes hurt when he read by candlelight. And the most terrifying thing about it was how slowly it had come upon him. He'd never get it back. He was afraid of that. He was not afraid of an assassin. At least he hadn't died trying to kill a King. He picked up the cigar from where it sat, smoldering in a ceramic dish, and stuck it in his mouth.

A soft knocking on his office door brought the entire room to silence. Before him were his council members, all staring dumb and dopeyed. Lord Wynt Dwyer, Lady Imogen Pebbles, Donli Thissle, his sister and about a dozen Poppies that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. They were all standing around the body of the assassin, who now rested as a bloody pulp on the floor. One of his wives. Someone had paid her off. Not the first time someone had charged at him with a knife, but the first time that it had been it had been a wife. He'd send to the Isle of Tatters for a new one. Anyone who thought that a wife could get close enough to kill him clearly didn't know anything about him.

"Come in Ollie. If you're not Ollie, fuck off." 

The door opened and closed, and the young man weaseled his way through the small crack. He stepped through the King's council, and over the dead body as if it was not even there. 

"The King of Ibethiel is here to see you, your Majesty."

"Great. Great. Beautiful. Great." Bradai said, standing up from his desk. He picked up the mirror, its handle saturated in blood, and placed it in his scribe's hands. "Vhat leaves all of you to figure out 'ow to get rid of the body of my stunning dead wife." 

He took the piece of cloth he used to wipe the ink off of his hands and began to scrub the blood off of his fingers, and when they were clean, he slipped one or two rings onto his fingers. The Pirate King had sixteen wives when he woke up this morning, had beat one to death with his fists as she came at him with a knife, and now was just thankful that he had one less ring to wear. 

" 'ere's how we're going to play vhis. Wife number five, Neave Bluebelle 'as an 'eadache. She can't come to tha festival today. If anyone asks, vhat's what you say. We're all 'ere, so we all 'ave tha same story. If anyone doesn't know, vhen vhey don't need to know. Are you all clear?" The Pirate King stood from the desk and tucked the thick, leather bound ledger underneath his arm. He began to walk past his Council, and over the dead body, to make his way to the door.

_"What?"_

The Pirate King's head spun on his neck, like a tiger at the sound of a broken branch. The voice of Wynt Dwyer filled the silence that was supposed to hang after the King's hypothetical question. 

The Pirate King let the leather bound book fall away from under his tucked arm, into a heap of ribbons, parchment, and metal rings. It fell to the ground in a heavy thump as the Pirate King closed the distance between them. He grabbed the boy by the lapels and pulled him close. 

"Your favher was a fat coward who surrendered too early. You are 'is second son. You are also new to my court, so consider vhis tha first and last time anyone 'as to tell you vhis: People 'oo do not know me soon come to learn vhat I do not act in a way vhat a King should act. I beat my Queen to deff wiff my hands. See?" He pointed to the body and held the finger in his face. "'er blood is under my fingernails. So please understand vhat it is imperative vhat you listen to me when I speak." He blew a puff of smoke into Wynt's face, "Don't fucking say "Yes" Or, "Fank you your majesty" Or I will tear your fucking 'ead off." The dropped the boy "Now pick up my fucking book." 

The man did as he was told, and put the book into the King's hands. He plucked the cigar from his mouth and tossed it onto the carpet that his wife was soaking into. 

A half an hour later, after a wardrobe change and a briefing, the Pirate King made his way into the Sunroom. 

"I kept you waiting." He said to Dennon and Kirk, "It's been quite a morning."
Edith
**King Dennon Bigsby
A Sunroom in the Maith Mansion**

Dennon and Kirk stood to greet the pirate king when he entered the room. "Not to worry, it didn't feel like much of a wait in the slightest. We've just been enjoying the lovely view while getting used to the feeling of solid ground underneath our feet once again after our voyage here," Dennon reassured their host as he gestured toward the cityscape overlook that the sunroom provided. "Also joining me is my associate, Lord Kirk Pinewood. You may remember him from the wedding at the Council of Marin a few months ago. He's had business here in the Isles before, and I thought he'd be a valuable contributor during this visit."

Kirk nodded to Bradai. "Your Grace."
Rhonda
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
A Sunroom in the Maith Mansion

"I'm glad you've been enjoying it. A lot of people say vhat sea breeze is medicinal. Vhose people 'ave never really been on a ship." The Pirate King had gone right for the drink cart, and had begun to pour himself a tall glass of rum. When he looked into the small brass pot at the bottom of the cart, and found that it was full of cold water, he turned back around to face them both, wide eyed and staring. "Are you two fond of ice? I personally fink you can't 'ave rum wiffout ice. And lime. Do you boff want lime as well?" 

He did not wait for them to answer, pointing at the crossbowman who he had stationed by the door, flicking his finger with a "You, go." 

When he was gone, the Pirate King smiled, taking his seat in a tall wicker chair beside them. Despite having no ice and no lime, the Pirate King seemed to like his rum just fine, and drank the whole thing in a single draw. 

"Now vhat we're alone." The Pirate King placed his glass on the table beside him, "I'd like for you boff to call me Bradai. I've no interest in titles and pleasantries. You're guests to me, and you came in good faiff. Vhat's good enuff for me, aye?"
Edith
Seeing Bradai down his glass immediately, Dennon finished off his as well since he only had a sip before to taste it. The blaze in his throat immediately made him wish that he'd known about the option of ice beforehand. It hadn't occurred to him that a place like the Isles would have anything remotely cold. "Smooth." He attempted to avoid sounding raspy.

Kirk joined in the fun, finishing his second glass. The antiquities dealer soon became aware of how little he had eaten that day. If the Islanders hadn't been waiting to receive them, they might have looked for something to eat now that they were on land. They had eaten very little on the ship, hoping to avoid seasickness.

"That's good to hear, *Bradai*." Dennon continued, emphasizing the Pirate King's name. "I still sometimes forget to turn my head if people say something to me without using my name. I suppose you grew up never thinking you'd have any sort of title, much like me. Actually, I suppose that wasn't entirely accurate for me. I did enjoy being 'Sir' for a short while since I'd worked for it, though even then, I didn't always feel like I deserved it."
Rhonda
"Aye." Bradai said, remembering, "You were a knight. I suppose you enjoyed vhat more, eh? It's easier to protect men and women wiff a sword vhan wiff a quill. And I wouldn't fink about your worvhyness too much. Speaking as a man 'oo 'as been on tha wrong side of boff a king and a knight, we 'ate vhem boff equally, I assure you." 

When Bradai stood up to get the decanter of rum, he brought the decanter of wine with him, placing both on the table beside him. He refilled his glass, just in time for the guard to return with limes and a refilled pot of ice. After that, he dismissed him permanently, leaving the three to talk in private.

"Sometimes, 'aving a trading company is worff vhe 'eadache." He laughed, and motioned for the guard to come beside him. A large cube of ice was placed inside his stout glass. He motioned to Kirk, "Your 'eadache will be due to tha rum. We should get you somefing to eat before tha tourney, because tha wine will be flowing quite liberally I'm afraid." He flashed Kirk a smile, his three golden teeth on display. "Are eivher uff you hungry after anyfing in particular? Cigars, maybe?"
Edith
"The cigars here are edible-?" The end of Dennon's question was cut off by Kirk clearing his throat loudly.

"A cigar with lunch sounds like a great idea," Kirk agreed, rephrasing Bradai's proposal.

Dennon wasn't sure what would be the best thing to ask for in a place perhaps not having some of the same resources as the mainland. He'd hate to suggest something that their host could not provide. "I'd like whatever you think we would need to eat in order to say that we had truly experienced The Southern Isles."
Rhonda
The Pirate King shook his head and smiled, clapping his hands together. He sighed, but in a calm and good natured way. "Fish it is, I suppose." 

Bradai walked to the door and knocked on it twice. It swung open just enough for him to mutter something in Silvertongue and walked back to his chair, pouring himself another tall glass of rum. 

" 'ose idea was it to marry you off to Anna Barrmount?" Bradai asked suddenly, placing the glass between his knees and leaning forwards to look at Kirk. "And 'ow many men did you send? I 'eard men left right before you came 'ere. What was vhat number?" 

As if to interrupt his line of questioning, a man came in with a box of cigars. "Pick out which one you like. By the time you're finished we'll 'ave our meal." Bradai chose one from the top of the stack and stuck it in his mouth, removing a tinderbox from his jacket and lighting a small flame in the dish by the decanters. In the blink of an eye, he moved the flame of the flint into a thin taper candle, which he used to light his cigar. "How do you fink your people see it? Your Queen, sending a military expedition Norff like vhat?"
Edith
Kirk began to feel nauseous at the mention of fish, but he hoped that the fact they were right by the sea would help ensure that it was prepared well. "I'd have to say it was Queen Lucrezia's brilliant idea. She's got a knack for coming up with great ideas like that on the spot, right Dennon?" The king remained silent as they reached for cigars. "She saw a girl in desperate need of help and with a willingness to give her hand in marriage to get it, and Lucrezia wanted the payoff that a mercenary contract would provide. I suppose marital rites aren't the most conventional form of collateral, but it did provide assurance. Perhaps I wouldn't have been the first choice for an eligible Ibbish bachelor to be placed on the table as part of the bargain, but since there were no other bachelors that went to Taemar for the council and the short time available to secure the deal was running out, it came down to me."

As Kirk spoke, Dennon lit his own cigar, bringing in the first puff of smoke over his palette before letting it escape. When the small man's subtly passive aggressive monologue came to an end, the king continued with the next question. "There have perhaps been small parties sent over the border in Terresol to ensure that the journey for the larger force would be a smooth one, but the army hasn't left yet. The trouble was that they were lacking supplies for endurance of the cold weather that awaits them in The Witherlands, especially for a mercenary force of this size. Six thousand men, give or take. However many Lady Anna believes the Iron Plaines can pay for when this is all over."
** **

Dennon went on. "How do my people feel? I know a number of them have enjoyed the work provided by supplying the mercenaries, and the payment for the kingdom that will be provided when it's over will benefit the land greatly. Ibethiel is known for its reliable mercenary supply, and it has been some time since there was a conflict large enough to mobilize so many men, all wanting to become soldiers of fortune. There was also the hardship that came from the plague. Many had difficulty finding work, some dared not even leave their homes at the height of the sickness. Now that the plague finally seems to be dying out, many will be wanting to stake their claim in the world. A payment like this could help a young man start a business upon his return."
Rhonda
The Pirate King resisted the urge to take notes. Kirk Pinewood was just as unsatisfied with the union as Anna Pinewood, or at least he seemed to be. Ibethiel's entire role in global politics could best be described as "Reluctant", and Lord Pinewood's disposition was certainly on brand. 

"You're not 'appy wiff it? She is quite lovely, if not a bit skittish. Men 'ave certainly..." He took a puff from his cigar, "_done worse for wives._" He lifted up a hand to show off the many rings that adorned his fingers, in seeming reference of himself, but it didn't take very much to read the subtext. Dennon was a good man, but his reputation as a good husband was more suspect. It was clear to anyone with eyes that he wasn't particularly fond of his Queen. Their union had been rushed, and many had made silent objection to a smalltime Knightsblood become one of the most powerful men in the South, although no one would make their feelings known with the Mad Bitch of Hexrakes running around, hanging children just as quickly as she pined for them. 

Six thousand. The Pirate King nodded. "And 'ow do your people feel about you, Dennon? 'Oo do vhey like more, you or 'er Grace?"
Edith
"She is lovely, quite kind-hearted as well. Most people probably couldn't ask for a better wife, but maybe that's why I have such a hard time accepting it. I *Didn't* Ask for it. My queen told me to do it. I expressed my misgivings at the time, but she can be quite... Persuasive." Kirk took a quick puff of his now lit cigar and chuckled to himself. "I never wanted to be nobility when I was younger. Sure, there were times when I was a bit wanting when I was short on coin, but I knew the life I wanted to live. I didn't want some marriage arranged for political reasons. I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to get married at all. The thought passed my mind a few times about who would get my shop, but I wasn't in a rush to do anything about it." He paused and took a deep breath. "Of all the people who would have been chomping at the bit for an opportunity like this, it came down to me. Anna and I still feel like strangers right now, but perhaps with time, we will build a happy life together. Still, happy or not, my life is never going to be the same again."
** **

Dennon wished he drank with Kirk more often to hear this side of him, but he preferred that he wouldn't vent all his problems onto the king of the Southern Isles. Then again, perhaps Bradai being a stranger from a far-away land is what made it so easy to say what he said. It then became his turn to answer. "What can I say? Lucrezia is the people's Queen." He said, implying that his humility was being masked by complimenting his wife, all to hide how much the kingdom generally seemed to dislike him. Many viewed him as a traitor to the Carbonells, even if they did love Lucrezia as a replacement. Others were very much in the queen's pocket. Those close to the castle who were more aware of the truth did little to help him. Dennon had no lordship that would support him. He lost a lot of good will by helping Lucrezia. Despite having little to lose, Dennon was still an honorable man. He thought he was helping Cheston, not sending him to his doom. The king often wondered if perhaps that had been one of the main reasons why Lucrezia wanted him so much. Despite his objections to the things she often did, he could never betray her, even for all that she'd done. Even if he could be pushed to that limit, he did not hold enough power or influence to do anything about it.
** **

"People don't really like you anyway, Dennon." Kirk chimed in, saying the quiet part out loud.

"There were some more vocal opposing voices early on, but life has moved forward all the same." Dennon conceded some ground, hoping it would be enough for Kirk not to press it further.

"I certainly haven't been the biggest fan lately." Kirk grinned as he wiggled the ring on his finger.

"Perhaps you'd enjoy taking a walk, Kirk. The fresh air could do you some good. Maybe you'll find a bucket of spoiled milk to sell at your antique store."

"Perhaps I'll sell it to your wife by telling her it's a bucket of your discarded seed."

"What!?"

"And if in nine months, she gives birth to a son with bull horns and hooves for hands, I'll buy you a steak." He took an aggressive puff of the cigar and started laughing midway through, accidentally inhaling some of it, which sent him into a coughing fit.

**Choke harder, lightweight.** Dennon thought to himself before turning awkwardly to Bradai. "Oh..." His voice faltered. "That Ibbish sense of wit got out of hand. My apologies if any of that seemed rude or..." Kirk stood up to get closer to the pillar windows at the edge of the sunroom so that he could continue coughing his lungs up. "...Aggressive. T'was all in jest."