The Betrayed Marionette

~.~.~

The light had all but failed and the ground was littered with fallen logs and twigs and bits of broken palm, but Amu held her head as high as she could; mustered up her most impressionable courage to walk on with dignity. Bound and beaten though she was, she would not allow herself to stumble nor flag at the hands of these loathsome men. No, Amu held her stiff upper lip and looked down her nose upon them as though they were but the dirt beneath her feet; the buzzing, biting bugs about her cheeks; she curled her lip and narrowed her eyes at these greasy soldiers as though they were the lowliest creatures she had ever laid eyes on and, to be quite honest, they probably were, or at least they were not far from it, for they were whispering amongst themselves, staring at her between hushed strings of conversation, looking either in amazement or triumph - as though they'd won some well sought-after prize, having roped her up and made her trek across the dense jungle, for, of course, they'd recognised her. How could they not?

By now, of course, the darkness was beginning to play tricks on the small party. The shadows seemed to swell tenfold as the night consumed this little island and all who tarried with it. Amu only paused in her heated glaring towards her captors when she felt the thick, rubbery leaves of the bush rustle suddenly beside her and her heart nearly failed, for her mind instantly returned to that god-awful night they had spent on the Isle of Spirits. Still, at the very least this place was not quite so frightening. She did not feel any prying eyes from the darkness nor hear the distant, far-off ancient chant that had haunted her dreams so many nights since. No, the only ill will here was the hostility of the uniformed men about her and the only impenetrable darkness that of their sordid hearts.

Finally the air was cooling. The insects were singing - chirruping ceaselessly in the bushes. As they carried on through the forest, one young, sweaty-looking miscreant at her side shoved her back onto the right path and in the process saw fit to grab her behind with the most lecherous sneer she had ever seen. Fuming, it was only a matter of seconds until the man came to regret his mistake. Before the fool could so much as blink, Amu caught hold of his ankle with her foot and sent him falling face-first into the foliage-

"Bastard."

And, inwardly brimming with triumph, she dug her ankle into his back for good measure.

The soldiers barked at her. Amu caught a piercing flash of brassy-gold and coldest steel as several muskets and rapiers swung towards her, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Their threats and jumbled cusses fell utterly short of meaning as she stepped back into line and strode as if at leisure down the slope. Somewhere in the background, she thought she could hear Yaya snickering, but the light was far too weak for her to see for certain. More importantly, the youth didn't bother her again. He trailed back pathetically with dried-up, leafy spines sticking out of his cheeks and was quite silent.

They carried on in this way for quite some time - long enough that their feet grew sore and their limbs stiff and for such time that Amu almost thought she was getting too tired to hold her head up high for much longer - until eventually the forest thinned out. They descended the downward slope they had been picking their way across, suddenly relieved to find the jungle debris grow sparse before disappearing altogether. The trees became thinner; the grass shorter; the soles of their feet no longer sank into warm and spongy earth, but trod light and unhindered on something much finer - sandier. And then, as the roar of the sea grew louder and the twinkle of starlight shone free of the forest canopy overhead, Amu's jaw very nearly dropped.

Right before them, just beyond the edge of the treeline, was a garrison. A fort. An enormous, looming structure surrounded by a haphazard mix of stone and wooden walls as tall as the trees themselves. At it's southward side, where Amu and Yaya and it's own men stood chilled in it's shadow, it's gaping mouth was reinforced by crude, yet thick, iron gates and guarded by men in crimson jackets whose stony façades were ignited by the flames of their torches. More overlooked the jungle's edge atop a platform on the top of the wall, shadowed as ghouls against the night sky. As gargoyles they stood sentinel, looking with keen, beady eyes into the ever-moving forest that lay behind them, and the ladies shivered as they were forced to pass.

The inside was no less menacing. Under the light of many lanterns they could see that various little huts and cabins and other storehouses besides had been built in an orderly fashion to form a compound of sorts. Open fires burned at intervals atop the enclosing fence. Against the darkness, Amu thought she caught the shadows of the men moving up and down their little pathways on the top of the outer walls. This really was a military matter, then. They had taken up the deep cove on the leeward side of the island to build this place, Amu realised, for they were definitely treading sandier earth now and the unmistakable tang of seasalt was almost overwhelming on their tongues. A steady wind was blowing westward from across the sea and whistling over the high walls of the fence and Amu thought with a sinking heart that such a breeze would have been the perfect opportunity for the Shining Black to make its move had a part its crew not been tied up and frog-marched right into the enemy's maw.

"Bless me…" Yaya whispered under her breath, the slightest little shake in her voice; "This is no smuggler's cove anymore Ya Maj'sty!"

That one little utterance was such an understatement that Amu almost laughed. She felt the corners of her lips twitch into a smile without mirth. She forced it aside and grimaced, acutely aware of the growing weight in her chest, because, as it turned out, Yaya was quite right. These men were serious business, Amu thought grimly, as one by one every red coat - complete with blade and pistol - turned and paused to stare in awe. All of a sudden the former princess found herself caught in the centre of an entire battalion - found herself swallowed in this sea of scarlet, gasping for but one clean breath of air as the lantern light dwindled in the darkness of their shadow. The tension in the air grew palpable, spreading about the compound like a rippling wave about the shore. The girls found themselves inching closer to one another as the heavy iron gates swung closed behind them.

"No," Amu agreed with her companion. "I don't believe the smugglers have been here for a long, long time."

All around them now men were pausing in their duties, stopping to share astonished looks and hurried whispers, though their eyes never left the girls as they stood at the mercy of their unwelcome guard. For a brief moment they wondered if they took as much curiosity in every pirate that wound up bound and dragged into the compound. But, of course, their interest was not merely in the appearance of a couple of prisoners. No… Their interest was in the appearance of the heiress of Seiyo.

"The Cap'n an' the others!" Yaya hissed urgently in her ear. "Yaya don't see 'em!"

Her head snapped round so suddenly it was a wonder the princess didn't injure herself. She scanned the gathering crowd frantically and her heart dropped as a dreadful stone to realise that, no, neither Ikuto nor their companions were among them. She swallowed thickly; "No… No, they have to be here somewhere."

Amu opened her mouth to go on, but there was the singing, shrill note of steel and the click of a pistol and the leader of their captors' little group turned red-faced towards her, barking what they could only guess was a command for silence. Amu bitterly regretted not having cared to learn more of their rival empire's language, but, in her defence, she'd thought in her last few months ashore that she'd have a lifetime left in which to learn it, knowing full well that her father would ship her straight unto the land of its invention for her arranged union. But that was of no matter now. Amu was not now the concubine to that eastern Emperor. She was being pinned and paraded at the point of his soldiers' swords through this forbidding fortress in the dead of night, her skirts tattered and splattered in silt, the song of the sea and the scent of salt saturated throughout her very being.

A world away from all else familiar, Amu watched as a swarm of bolder, cleaner-looking men in pristine, more refined coats marched towards them, their attire jingling under the weight of extra adornments - gold and silver tags and little stitched symbols about their breasts according to rank. There seemed to be an air of awe about their faces; whispers washed about the compound; there was an animated discussion in that same unfamiliar tongue, though, of course, Amu and Yaya were oblivious to all they said. After perhaps a minute or so, they seemed to reach some sort of agreement.

The man in charge turned to the girls. Amu tensed, poised as though ready to spring against some sort of danger, but before she could brace herself for whatever was to come she heard Yaya shriek behind her.

"Yaya!"

"Oi!" The barmaid screeched. Yaya thrashed wildly under the grip of unfamiliar men; "Get ya hands off o' Yaya! Get ya hands off!"

Amu's entire being was riled in protest; "Hey!" She shouted in outrage. "You let her go! You let her go or I swear damn-!"

But it was no use. Sensing that she was about to dash towards Yaya's captors, two of the men who had led them there took her roughly by the arms and dragged her back, much to her displeasure. Later on, Amu would have liked to have thought that she put up a fair fight, for soon it in fact took two more soldiers to restrain her, yet it was to no avail. She was, after all, in unfamiliar territory, outnumbered and already weakened from their earlier ordeal with Kiseki and his unruly band of privateers and so it was not long before the princess' bold bid for freedom turned into little more than a nasty scuffle. And then, just as her strength was beginning to fail her:

"Now, now, now. It will do you no good, Your Highness."

Amu stilled at the sound of words spoken in her native tongue. Thickly accented, but familiar, they caught her attention quicker than aught else. She peered up through her haphazard fringe curiously and was greeted with the sight of glistening gold in the firelight.

The man before her was shorter than most of his other fellows, but his countenance if possible was more menacing. His eyes were dark, but his gaze was relentless. He wore not a crimson suit, but an embroidered yellow-and-gold coat that glinted and glittered with every step and his headdress stood high on atop his head. All about him golden tassels and stitches and military-looking medallions winked incessantly at them beneath the torchlight.

Amu frowned, casting him a particularly distasteful look. "And who are you?"

The man's lips twitched. He chuckled lowly. Something nasty - cruel even - was alight in his eyes as he paced his way towards his captive - as a tiger stalks towards its prey, cold and calculating and, ultimately, undeniably delighted to watch its unfortunate victim struggle within his grasp. As a cat toys with a mouse he stepped about them, circling them, his gaze dragging up and down every inch of her body so that she felt utterly exposed - as though he had somehow laid bare all her secrets and sought them out from within the deep recesses of her mind without uttering a single word.

"So it is true." He sneered eventually, almost to himself. "This is the side you have chosen. I almost would have not believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes." And he cast a repulsive grimace in Yaya's direction, raising his tone as though it were the only way to force such a distasteful concept past his lips; "Gallivanting off with some ragtag band of robbers and murderers and scurvy-ridden scoundrels alike-"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Amu snapped; "Let her go."

But this only seemed to amuse him. There was a pause, the man shook his head and then he uttered something brusque that she could not understand. In an instant Yaya was protesting again, the guards' grip on her poor body renewed and Amu could only watch helplessly as her friend was carted off into the darkness.

"Hey!" she made to launch for her companion, but there were still hands on her shoulders pinning her back, holding her out of reach. "I said let her go, you filthy bastard-!"

This time the man in charge (for surely he must have been) let a sadistic sort of chuckle leave his lips, as if all this was terribly funny to him. In the background, Yaya's cries were growing fainter. Sensing another struggle from the heiress was imminent, he held up a hand.

"It's no good, Your Highness." He said cooly again, watching with little interest as his men fought to restrain her. "But, rest assured, your little companion will be well looked after. Or as well as she deserves, at any rate. For you, however… Well, I have something quite different in mind."

Amu's eyes widened. The soldier snapped his fingers, addressed his soldiers in his native tongue and soon she found herself once more jumping at the prod of the blade in her back, driven by another man's musket across the compound and into the shadow of the high walls all about them. The man in the gaudy golden coat led them through the buildings towards the side that faced the sea. There lay a large, wooden structure off a little separate path to all the others. It stood in the shadow of a guard tower where extra lookouts were posted to keep watch on the line of the ocean. This must have been his lodgings then, Amu guessed, or at least his workspace, for she was soon marched down a narrow corridor and into what could only be described as a receiving room - a low, dimly-lit space that smelt of foreign spices, for there Amu saw a long, mahogany table laden with food: dishes of meats and vegetables and rice in brightly coloured sauces; piles of dates and other unfamiliar fruits on silver platters; goblets and decanters filled to the brim with rich, dark wine and all the while the candelabras were burning softly, bathing the room in a warm glow.

Amu was led further into the room. The floor was laid with a lavish rug, but the dirt-packed ground underneath was still visible by the door. The man before her stationed himself behind a richly-carved desk covered in parchments in various states of progress - some rolled, some sealed with wax, but all bearing the unmistakable flowing script that Amu could not read and indeed had never intended to learn until her proposed union with the eastern Emperor had been placed upon her.

Whilst she was warily taking in her new surroundings, the man in charge waved a hand lightly and the soldiers behind her bowed before marching for the door. As the latch clicked softly back into place Amu realised that she was to be left all alone with this obnoxious man for as long as he saw fit. And, judging by the amount of food on the table across the room, she guessed that he was to expect her company for quite some time thereafter.

"Sit."

He was gesturing to a plush-backed chair across the desk, polished and carved with the faces of oriental beasts that the former princess couldn't name. In all honesty, she'd rather have sat in the dirt. Amu did not move. Across the room, something of a malicious laugh left the man's lips.

"Please."

She remained still, indignant til the very last. She glowered at him, the firelight smouldering in her eyes, but he just looked rather pleased in a smug, arrogant sort of way.

"A drink, Your Highness?" He dropped his previous request and instead reached for an empty crystal glass. He leisurely poured himself a generous helping of wine. If he was frustrated by her lack of reply, he did not show it. No, it was almost as though he relished in it. Perhaps, Amu thought, that was because it gave him an opportunity to carry on talking. "I must say it is astonishing." He began. "It was truly unexpected - unprecedented, even, for Her Highness to just show up on our doorstep out of the blue."

Something inside her positively riled at this. "Your doorstep?" Amu repeated, the distaste evident in her tone. "You and I well know that you have no right to lay claim to this isle!" She said. "This place lies under the boundaries of my father's rule. These are Seiyo's waters - the Emperor has no claim to them! Nor you, whoever you are."

"Me?" He replied, the amusement twitching at the corners of his thin lips. "My name is Ramira. And, as far as His Holiness and I are concerned, your father has no right to bear grudge against the actions of his ally, considering the unrest his daughter has caused between us. Why, some might argue that His Majesty has no right to lay claim to islands he has long lost care for!"

Amu tugged on her bonds, wrists still bound tightly behind her back. "How can His Holiness be so bold? So brazen?" She demanded. Her tone was shifting, morphing as she tried to slip back into that dignified 'business tone' that he had been so accustomed to using all her life. It was the kind of tone that, at its best, could make even mightier men quake at the knees, could topple the confidence of the most senior advisors, but to her dismay it had become rusty with disuse. Indeed, it now felt foreign and unnatural upon her tongue. But she continued on regardless; "My father's navy prowls these waters - more so in recent days. To invade upon our territory so openly in times as these could well incite further tensions."

But, to her surprise and utter annoyance, Ramira laughed aloud. "My word!" He exclaimed. "You have such confidence, young lady, for one who has so recklessly run away from her responsibilities!"

At this Amu's blood began to burn, but she was not wholly sure whether her rage was in fact not some sort of shame, buried deep and locked away subconsciously within her heart. Nevertheless she bristled; "I may have forsaken my title," she said slowly; "but should whispers from beyond the ocean reach the King that the Emperor is encroaching upon Seiyo's waters…"

There was a pause during which Ramira looked almost impressed, studying her as he was from the chair behind his desk. He swilled the wine gently in his glass. Then he hummed; "My… A threat? Perhaps you are not so insignificant an obstacle as one may think. Certainly there is still a flame within you, Miss Hinamori, though I fear it may not be enough to face against the firestorm which looms before us." And he narrowed his keen gaze, his face turning dark. "Sparks have flown since last you set foot upon your own green country."

A dreadful foreboding crept up Amu's spine as she took in these unpleasant words. Her ire faltering, it was only replaced with a horrible trepidation the likes of which she had barely known since even those last few days of Ichinomiya's reign of terror aboard the Shining Black. Her heart thudded within her chest. Ramira's stony countenance gave her the impression that there was something much bigger than her predicament upon this little island occurring that she had missed. After all, she had been isolated these last few months - cut off from the wide world beyond the borders of their own small craft. For the first time, Amu wondered if perhaps choosing the life of an outsider (and a buccan, no less) might have been a grave mistake.

"I don't know what you mean." She uttered, brows furrowing in confusion, unaware that her 'business tone' was slipping. A great feeling of unease had struck her to the core.

Slowly, Ramira stood, casting his gaze out the window and towards the waters for but a brief moment before pacing about his desk, running his hands idly over the papers that littered its surface;

"The tide is changing, Your Highness." He began ominously. "Though your foray into the life of a pirate may have doubtless been the best for you by your reckoning, your disappearance has caused quite the stir well beyond the boundaries of your father's empire." And, at her silence, he went on; "You see, it has brought the failures of Tsumugu's rule into light, not to mention that of his own character." And he chuckled without mirth; "What a fool. Your father can barely see past the smokescreen of your own actions - can barely keep a handle on the comings and goings outside of his own grief. It consumes him. Blinds him. Long has he abandoned the time of peace treaties and negotiations with My Liege, not to mention turned his attention from the troubles of his own people… No… Indeed, he has shown that he cares not for the efforts my Emperor has so graciously made to ease the hostility between our peoples."

And, slowly, he turned to face her;

"You do understand, don't you, Your Highness, what your little act of defiance has cost us?"

And, with that, her stomach dropped. So that was it then, Amu realised bitterly. Seiyo's relations with the eastern empire had crumbled. Fallen through. Turned to dust. She couldn't even find the words to respond to Ramira's little accusation of her. In the drama and the chaos that had led to her disappearance, Amu had barely had any thought of what might come of her absence beyond her family's disapproval or Ichinomiya's end. No, her mind had been occupied by other, more immediate things. The betrayal of their former Captain; the loss of her Humpty Lock; the overwhelming need to right the wrongs that had been dealt upon her ruffian and his family and the tug-tug-tug that pulled her heart to his. She had cared not for the collapse of her marriage plans. Even then that night she had been set to sail from Seiyo into the east had felt like a lifetime ago, distant in her memory, barely worth a second thought.

But now the fallout of her decision was laid bare before her. She felt as though she was looking upon some looming desolation stretching bleakly out from the depths of her shadow, the ground cracking open, inching ever outwards from the chasm beneath her feet and in that moment Amu utterly loathed herself - loathed her actions; wished the earth would open wide and swallow her whole if only to selfishly spare herself the burning shame that accompanied her own revelation… Because Amu realised now that, whether she had known it or not, she had always been tied to greater things. She had not been just a careless noble, hardly worth mentioning. She had been the Princess of Seiyo. A bargaining chip. The key to her nation's future prosperity. And no matter how the decision to relinquish her right to rule had displeased her, she realised now that ultimately it had been her only role within the world to act in the interests of her people - to assist her father in easing tensions to the east in whatever way she possibly could even if it called for her unconditional submission to the Emperor himself. The impact of her absence… It had spread as ripples on the surface of an endless lake…

And now, no matter what the outcome of her careless abandonment, it was she who was solely responsible. The fate of her country; the fate of the empire; the fate of her people, rich and poor alike; whatever this unpredictable Emperor saw fit to do in retaliation… It was all on her.

Amu wondered briefly if she could ever forgive herself, only to realise that she did not deserve it in the slightest.

The silence that consumed the room spoke volumes. Ramira seemed to understand the turmoil that warred within her heart. He had been right to assume that Her Highness, being still young and inexperienced and dizzy with misguided notions of righteousness, had never thought of any of this, but this time he did not take pleasure in being right. He watched as Amu fought within herself, watched the maelstrom war on deep within her heart, for a moment before placing his empty glass upon the table and sighing.

"But perhaps we should thank you, Your Highness." He said then, not missing the way she stiffened at these words, jerked out of her troubled thoughts, for the thought that she might have aided her enemy was positively abhorrent. "The attention of the King's navy has been elsewhere. Their direction is as scatterbrained as he and their defence has grown slack." And something cruel crept its way onto his face. "And so you understand how we were able to come upon this place without interruption. I must say, it has been a job well done. To think! Aided by the actions of Tsumugu's heiress! Seiyo is not the woman she once was."

Amu looked up at him for the first time again then and her gaze was smouldering, jaw clenched. To be taunted by a man fully aware of his invasion of her father's territory… Well, it filled her with hatred. "She may not be my responsibility anymore - I might have lost that right - but that doesn't mean I've lost the will to defend her."

"No," Ramira began; "No, I must say, you have greatly astonished me! I had expected a runaway royal who cared not for her country. No, this is refreshing."

At that moment he drew his attention away from her, pacing over to the table to take a sample from an assortment of dried fruits that lay soaking in syrup in a gigantic silver bowl. Amu looked desperately about for any source of escape. An open window; a secondary door - anything! But, to her dismay, the exits were all sealed off and she was sure that behind her there were guards waiting outside the room and ready to pounce should she gather the strength to make a break for it. Frustrated, she bit her lip.

And then, as her eyes fell back towards the desk, she caught a hint of silver glinting in the candle light.

Amu frowned, peering over whilst this scoundrel's back was still turned. He was still wittering away about something, bad-mouthing her father's integrity, no doubt, but, as it turned out, this worked in her favour, for he did not see her as she edged towards the letter-opener, subtly sliding her foot across the rug and attempting to shift closer to the desk.

Until, that is, he turned back. She stilled immediately.

"-isn't that right, Your Highness?"

Amu's eyes darted away from the pitiful blade. She changed the conversation in an attempt to appear inconspicuous. "Where is Ikuto?" She asked. And, at Ramira's clueless look; "My Captain."

A chuckle left the man's lips. "Oh, is that the name of the pirate that stole fair lady's heart?" He only laughed louder at her obstinate silence. "No, I'm afraid I have no clue, my dear. Rest assured, your Captain is not here among us. If I had to guess… Well, I'd wager that he is far away by now. That's the thing about a pirate's loyalty, Your Highness. It can neither be bought nor trusted."

Truthfully, Amu didn't know whether to believe this or not. She couldn't think of anywhere else her Captain could be. It occurred to her then that she and Yaya had found no bodies of their own men lying out in the forest. Perhaps they had made it back to the ship, she thought, but, then again, surely she would have encountered them on their way back? Her head hurt just thinking about all the possibilities - so much so that she barely registered Ramira's voice as he caught sight of her despondent expression.

"Come now, Your Highness, there is, after all, a light at the end of this dismal tunnel. Understand that I am sure negotiations between our empires can be rearranged. Have no fear…" He placed his hands behind his back and paced the length of the table. "You were to be wed to His Holiness, after all. He was greatly displeased to see the deal off, you know. I am sure he will be enormously pleased to hear that you have reappeared before us."

"'Reappeared'..." Amu scoffed, not quite liking wherever this conversation was going. But, nevertheless, she took her chance, stepping as if at leisure across the woven rug and further into the room under the guise of mirroring her captor - as if she were merely doing her best to keep her distance, for it was true that her body grew riled in protest the longer he spoke, yet all the while the gleam of that one letter-opener shone keenly in the corner of her vision. She did her best to deflect his attention from her true intentions; "'Reappeared' perhaps, but not of my own decision." She said. "Besides, I do not see the benefit of my return before His Holiness. Not when, you understand, there is nothing left for me ashore but to be tried for piracy."

At this Ramira looked positively fiendish. It was a look that Amu did not like one bit. What exactly had he or, indeed, his Emperor have in mind if not to take power over her inevitable undoing? As it turned out, she did not have to wait long for him to elaborate.

"Oh, Tsumugu will be indebted to us for certain, you see." He said, rolling a discarded wax stamp between his fingertips; "Indebted to hear that we have finally rid him of those… Those scoundrels that have had his own men running about these seven seas like dogs with their tails between their legs." And, with the shadow of the candelabra falling over his face, Ramira's eyes were like glistening coals as he stopped in his tracks and uttered; "We will execute the pirates. And so your father will have no choice but to abide by the Emperor's terms."

Again, Amu found herself uselessly tugging at the ropes about her wrists. She stole a glance at the letter-opener again, once more daring to take a subtle step towards it.

"Oh? And what terms are those?"

Ramira looked at her as though in disbelief at her ignorance. "Why, your hand, of course." He said as if it were perfectly obvious. "Indeed, what else has His Holiness ever desired if not for the promise of Tsumugus most accomplished daughter?"

Immediately Amu stilled, the blade forgotten, cast wholly from her mind as a sea breeze sweeps away the morning fog. Her blood went cold. Her stomach dropped more heavily than it had ever done so before and all the while this - this villain regarded her as though she were naught but some long-sought prize that he had finally obtained.

'No,' Amu thought helplessly, her mind drawing a blank until all that was left was the echoing: 'No, no, no.' Deep down she felt a flicker of panic - a dread that was slowly creeping up from the pit of her stomach, rising cold and paralysing like the oncoming tide until she felt as though she were drowning in some icy pool, ankles shackled down to the bottom in iron chains, for this could not be! She had thought this had all been behind her - her union to the Emperor, her voyage into the east - a one-way ticket, never to return, never to see her beloved country or comrades again. Had she not fled this terrible fate the day she threw herself into the sea in pursuit of a pirate captain? She had thought that, no matter what the consequences of her abandonment, she was free! That, no matter what may come of her perhaps reckless decision, she would never have to endure such a destiny! The very thought of being forced back so unwillingly into that life that she had thought was lost - that was long-gone and distant in her memory… Well, it was more than she could bear.

Fear… It was pure, unbridled fear that took ahold of Amu's heart then. And, for a moment, it blinded her.

"No!" She burst out, unaware of herself, breathless. She did not even realise her chest was rising and falling heavily. And, again the words rang inside her head: 'No, no, no..!'

But Ramira was oblivious. He was chewing thoughtfully on a fresh date, more intent on sampling the food than he was on his charge. "Of course," he said and, really, Amu only now realised that he had in fact still been talking whilst she'd been panicking over her fate and that she had not heard it for the blood pounding in her own ears; "His Holiness is a reasonable man, after all. The promise of a previous contract fulfilled will be enough to placate him. Tsumugu should not worry. Once the union is arranged, there will be no need for further tension between our two most glorious nations…" And only now did he look back, casting his eyes over her in scrutiny; "Consider it fortunate, my dear, that the Emperor is willing to overlook whatever… Faults have been dealt upon you during your time away from home."

"Ah," Amu almost laughed to herself. "Of course. I forgot that by all accounts I am 'damaged goods' now. How kind of His Holiness to take pity on a wench like me."

"Indeed." Ramira's lip curled in disapproval. "With a mouth like that, it's no wonder."

Her gaze hardening, Amu subtly side-stepped closer to the desk. Ramira's eyes were dark now - positively filled with disgust as they travelled over her dirty, bloodstained form. And then, finally;

"What have they done to you..?" He whispered lowly - so lowly that Amu almost didn't catch it. But there was something almost sorrowful flickering in his oily features, as if he were truly locked in some lament - as though he could not bear to watch one once so noble stoop so low. "What have those… Rats done to you, my beauty? To one so full of promise - of power? Just how utterly unforgivably have they defiled such a striking young woman? Who was so refined? Renowned throughout this civilised world..?"

Amu did not know why, but those words sent an unwelcome shiver up her spine. The hairs on her skin rose as a chill swept throughout her very being. Was it purely embarrassment? Some sort of physical reaction to such flattery? After all, she realised that she had not been described in such a regal light since she had cast off her royal status. Perhaps, she thought, it was the buccan in her rebelling to Ramira's reminiscence of her former nobility. But, either way, she didn't like it and so she shook the discomfort off as best she could, frowning;

"They have done nothing to me." Amu said firmly. "I have cast off my crown as readily as His Holiness would take it."

There was a pause - a moment of uneasy quiet as Ramira considered Amu's little admission. During this time he regarded her critically, cast his eyes up and down her determined form, the gears in his head slowly ticking over and over with thoughts she could not fathom. But eventually he exhaled audibly, shaking his head ever-so-slightly, as though disappointed in what he had heard.

"No… No that is not true." The man before her said, features full of contempt as he came to some unknown conclusion. "Not for a woman of your standing. Though I do not doubt that it was your own decision to abandon your birthright, I do not believe that you have not played right into their devious hands. I do not believe that these scoundrels have not pulled the strings behind the scenes and led you unto your own undoing." And, finally, he began to pace towards her. "But, nevertheless, the truth still stands that both parties are of equal blame. If you are so determined to disregard your duty, then you shall share their fate whilst I take charge of their capture. To the cells I send you, Miss Hinamori, until I can spare a ship to deliver you unto the Emperor himself!"

Quite honestly, Amu had been starting to wish for this moment for quite some time now, for to be sent away into some jail for the night would at the very least spare her from this insufferable blaggard's self-righteous blathering, but before she could thank her good fortune and take her leave, she was at once unnerved to find him sidle up beside her. She regarded him cautiously. There was a new, unfamiliar shadow across his features. A lecherous sneer spread across his face as he uttered lowly;

"Unless, of course, Her Highness would prefer something more comfortable…"

There was something unsettling in his tone that Amu did not like one bit. Her skin crawled under his lewd gaze. And, just as she thought she would finally dismiss her, he leaned in close enough that she could feel his foul breath against her neck;

"My quarters are quite free, my dear, should you wish to grace this gentleman with your company tonight."

Utterly revolted, she sprang back. "Oh? And where is this 'gentleman'?" She spat. "I see no gentlemen here."

But that perverse look had not quite yet faded from the man's face. No, he looked upon her now like a predator advances on its prey, enjoying the hunt, revelling in the thrill of resistance, for to him it was all but a game. He allowed his eyes to rake over her form. "Perhaps not, but, all the same, your company would be much appreciated, Your Highness. Such a young and fiery spirit… I must say I quite envied His Holiness when your union was first proclaimed."

Amu scoffed. "I heard he bathes in virgins' blood. Looking forward to adding me to the harem, was he?"

If she had hoped for a rise out of him, Amu was disappointed to receive none at this slight to his Emperor. Once more, her gaze darted briefly to the feeble blade upon the desk. Thankfully, Ramira seemed too blown over for words. He sank into his seat, grinning deviously at her plight. Frustrated, she took one final tug at her bonds.

"Do what you wish." Amu said finally. "What does it matter? You've already caught me anyway."

"My Lord might not bathe in young ladies' blood, but I cannot deny he knows beauty when he sees it. 'Tis a pity…"

Indignant, her cheeks flushed in a mixture of outrage and embarrassment. "I beg your pardon-!"

"Really now, Princess. His Holiness was quite eager for your hand once upon a time. It's a shame you've been spoiled."

A brief little breath of disbelieving laughter left her lips. Amu's tone was low and dangerous; "Well, you see, I heard His Holiness likes them unblemished, so I had to take precautions, you understand. Desperate times and all that."

But Ramira merely sneered. "Oh, I do not doubt that you have had your turn with all of those mongrels. How could such lowly creatures resist, after all, the temptation to sully something so undeniably irresistible."

He shifted then, turning his attention back once more to the feast prepared for him. A fig here, some cheese there, he savoured many of the dishes one by one, launching into some tirade between mouthfuls that, so far as she could tell, consisted of various controversial opinions concerning what should be done with the likes of captured pirates and their cohorts, but Amu wasn't listening by this point. No, not at all, for it was then in the split-second that Ramira's back was turned she found herself once more staring at that letter-opener sat barely feet away - right out there in the open! - and, with that, she felt herself grow bold.

Amu took her chance.

She had closed the gap between herself and the item of her desire quicker than he could blink. Her bound hands towards the desk, she attempted to mask her intentions using her own body as a shield, hopeful that this loathsome man wouldn't catch her as she took the blade between her fingertips - as she scrambled to break her ties and somehow plunge the knife into his back whilst there was still a chance! She felt it - there! The cold kiss of metal was more welcome than a soft bed to sleep in at the end of a long winter's day or the first drop of fresh water after a gruelling trek on some far-flung desert isle, but she could not see it, she could only fight with her wrists bound so to angle it perfectly within her palm. As her host rambled on through some further monologue and poured himself another goblet of wine she tried to twist it - the pearl shaft was slipping from her grasp..!

And then the unthinkable happened.

Ramira turned, taken aback to find her now stood so close beside his desk. She stilled instinctively-

'Chink!'

In the dim light, even Ramira did not miss the telltale gleam of silver as that feeble weapon dropped down onto the rug, bouncing audibly off the carved foot of the heavy furniture. His gaze followed it for a moment. Amu's breath was caught in her throat - heart thudding dangerously within her chest…

But the man just laughed - light and free as though he were at an amusing show rather than in the midst of an interrogation with one of the world's most sought-after fugitives. Leisurely, he paced towards Amu's stock-still form and bent down to pick up the offending object. When he rose, the princess's cheeks were blazing red in a muddle of ire and humiliation.

"Now, it is as I thought," Ramira began, brandishing the little letter-opener pointedly before her face as he blathered on, apparently either immune or unaware of Amu's burning gaze. Oblivious, he wittered on. "Only such an unsavoury crew could twist such a bright young woman into resorting to such dirty tactics."

Following the path of the blade only briefly, Amu paused before meeting the man's hard gaze. She swallowed, yet she found that to bring forth as much courage as she could muster was effortless - as easy as almost anything she had ever done - for her following words were true;

"And yet they have my loyalty. Unlike you."

Her demeanour was stony - steadfast - and there was such finality in Her Highness' tone that Ramira apparently understood then that all of his subtle, sly cunning would not be enough to sway that immovable woman before him now.

Bristling at the realisation, he glowered; "As you wish." And he barked something brusque in his native language so that immediately there were two guards barrelling in through the door, blades at the ready. Amu was taken either side by the elbow, but this time she did not resist. Quite frankly, she was glad to be taken from this lowlife's sight. "Good night, fair princess." Ramira called behind her. "May tomorrow bring light unto a new beginning!"

And, feeling as though she'd just lost a game of riddles, Amu just glared as she was roughly led from Ramira's building. In the dark she could see little of their path, but the guards evidently knew their way, for she was soon being roughly shoved into what appeared to be a makeshift jailhouse, complete with barred doors and four separated compartmentss, though they at last cut her bonds as they unceremoniously threw her over the threshold. Quite truthfully, the prospect of spending her night in a cell seemed preferable to just whatever the hell Ramira had been offering in comparison, Amu thought - more so on seeing a familiar face awaiting her inside.

"Oh, Yaya!" Amu threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tight with relief. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

The cook shook her head. "No, Yaya's fine, Ya Maj'sty." Yaya pulled back to give her a reassuring sort of smile. Truly nothing could dampen her spirits so long as her companions were beside her, Amu thought. "Yaya would like to think she gave 'em a tough time though, she would!"

Truthfully this did not reassure her, but she didn't have much time to think of it when yet another familiar tone came echoing through the empty jailhouse;

"Ya Highness!"

Amu whirled, stunned by the oddly delighted voice. "Kukai?"

The rusty-haired rogue pressed his face up to the bars that separated their cells and grinned, quite inappropriately for the situation, through the darkness. "Ah, find yourselves in 'ere too, eh?" He said. And he teased; "We was hopin' you'd find us down here, ma'am, but not like this!"

Only briefly comforted by his familiar tone, the princess flew to the bars. A hundred questions seemed to spill out all at once; "Kukai, what happened to you? Where's Ikuto? And the men? What about Utau?"

Kukai shrugged, only slightly forlorn. "Got away, didn't they? Lucky bastards." And he sighed; "Ah, not ta worry, though. They'll be after us soon enough."

Privately, Amu thought that this was optimistic. No doubt they might try, she thought to herself, but for only four of them to attempt to break them all out of such a heavily-guarded compound… Well, it just wasn't going to happen, really, was it?

Disheartened by the thought, Amu sighed and cast her eyes up towards the rafters. She saw that, through the makeshift roof, the shadows were darkening, the night wearing on. Ikuto and the others were still out there - alone, possibly defenceless, cut off from the rest of the crew and vulnerable as the darkness fell…

But, as she ruminated on their predicament, Amu only found that her hopelessness became overshadowed by determination. For, she reasoned, if they wanted to find themselves out of this mess, they would have to do it themselves.

~.~.~

A/N: Why do villains always seem to have a feast prepared when they capture a notable hostage? I don't know, but I think it's hilarious.

Have a Happy New Year, lads~!