I know these first few chapters are short, but I'm just trying to draw attention to them for now. They'll get longer after a while, maybe 2,000 words each.
"Get up," a guard said. Prince Hans lay on his side in a cell, the floor littered with hay to sleep on. As he pushed himself up with his cuffed hands, some of the straw from the hay had stuck onto his jacket. He got up on his feet as he heard the familiar click of the lock on the iron, and the screech of the gate swinging open. "Follow me." The guard turned out, and Hans followed, taking a glimpse at two other guards on the either side of him, holding up muskets with bayonets on the very end of them.
He was to be escorted straight away to the palace dungeon, where he would await his trial.
The light of the sun pierced through the hatch opening to the deck, Hans squinting as he stepped out. He took a look around at the sight, smelling the air, hearing the bells, feeling the sun. It was his home capitol of the Southern Isles. Much like the village around the castle was Arendelle's capitol, the city surrounding the palace was his.
In the very distance he could see the palace resting upon a higher piece of land, surrounded by an inner wall. Then to the outside of it was the vast array of buildings connecting to each other, the city life teeming.
A guard behind Hans had to push him lightly with the mid of his musket to keep him moving; and so they stepped down from the wooden prisoner ship and onto the docks.
There were some gasps, and shocked silence had fallen over some of the people who had occupied the docks, they noticing the prince in shackles. He had to ignore them, as the guards kept him moving until they eventually stopped in front of a carriage. The carriage wasn't royal; it was of course built with iron bars around it, much like his cell aboard the ship.
The guard that had taken point had stopped and stood at attention for a man in his formal Prince's uniform, burgundy hair much like Hans' but curly instead of straight. His facial features were relatable to Hans, but just enough to tell the difference between the two. It was one of his brothers, Johann; no doubt the King sent him to receive the disgrace.
Suddenly the guard saluted the brother of the Prince and stood off to the side, Johann approaching Hans with a smirk.
"Brother," he sighed, his hands resting behind his back. Johann was one of the brothers to constantly beat him up as a child. "Just what on God's green earth were you hoping to accomplish?" Hans didn't say anything, he didn't even look at him; he just kept his eyes pointed to the ground in shame. Johann scoffed, "you probably should've just followed Franz's footsteps instead of attempting to fraternize with the Princess and the Queen of Arendelle." Again Hans didn't say anything, he had nothing to justify. "Oh Hans, you could've been a great Admiral, and actually make yourself useful for once," he mocked, then turned and paced slowly back and forth. "But now what do we have? A worsened reputation, a worsened trade relation with Arendelle, a worsened looking family…"
As if the Royal Westergard family isn't bad enough…Hans thought. Johann rambled on, Hans not paying much attention as he thought to himself.
"…Notice how everything is now worsened!?" Johann lifted his voice, putting his face right up to Hans'. "Are you listening to me?!" He slapped Hans across the face, Hans' head jerking to the force. "Huh?!"
The shackled prince had to resist the urge to spit in his face. The curly haired prince stepped away from him, turning his back to him. "Worthless." And he raised his hand up, walking away. This signaled the guards around the carriage to approach Hans and grabbed him roughly, throwing him into the iron bars.
A whistle rang from someone's mouth, and the carriage began moving, Hans sitting inside crisscross, ignoring the attention of the common folk.