Anne didn't know how much time had truly passed. The brig was dingy and poorly lit, so keeping track of the days was near impossible. The closest she could guess was almost a week now based on the sporadic times that meals were shoved between the bars. That and the stubble forming on her brother's usually clean-shaven face.

"This is barbaric," Frederick muttered under his breath, picking at the slop that had been delivered by bucket. "Utterly barbaric."

"Are you expecting your meals to be served on a silver platter?" Anne questioned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "We've been kidnapped and all you can do is complain about the food and the smell."

"What would you have me do, Anne?" he looked at her expectantly. "I can't muscle our way out of this situation and I've already tried diplomacy. And seeing as how the captain hasn't even bothered to introduce himself or state his terms, I've come to expect the worst."

Anne's brow furrowed. "You think they're insurgents?"

"There aren't many other option," Frederick agreed then bitterly sighed. "I can't believe I'm going die covered in filth long before I could even dream of planning my coronation,"

"I guess England's safe from going up in flames again then," Anne retorted with a playful smile. However, her brother's expression fell as he took her words to be genuine. She quickly shook her head and gently nudged his arm to get his attention. "You know I don't really mean that. It was said in good fun. I've already told you on multiple occasions that you'll do a wonderful job leading the people... but I'm also your sister and teasing you is the one job I actually enjoy."

Frederick slowly nodded his head, but his eyes remained trained on the slop within the bucket. "I know... it's just that all of the regulations and restrictions start to wear you down after awhile. Not to mention that you seem to be the only one who actually believes I'd do well on the throne."

Anne placed a hand on his shoulder and offered a look of encouragement. "You're Prince Frederick of Wales, heir apparent to the crown of England. If anyone can get us out of here, it's you."

He offered her an appreciative smile and straightened with a more resolute expression. He nodded his head in agreement then stood, dusting his hands of the muck that stained the once royal blue hue of his uniform. He took a step forward then less-than-politely rattled the brig door. "I demand to speak with the captain! We are royalty and will be treated with respect deserving of such."

"Royalty that will fetch a pretty penny," a feminine voice replied from the shadows, one they hadn't heard before. After the initial dramatic moment passed, the woman stepped out of her hiding place and leaned against the support beam just outside the cell. A smug smile pulled at her lips while she brushed a loose curl from her eyes. "I hope your room has been comfortable. It's the finest we have to offer."

"Perhaps we could put that to the test," Frederick contradicted. "I'm sure we can arrange for a civilized conversation with the captain within his quarters."

"Oh really?" the woman's brow lifted, amused by the direction of the conversation. "And what might you have to discuss? Most prisoners aren't offered quarter."

"Any quarters would be more suitable than this cell," Frederick wrinkled his nose and his posture stiffened. "I'd like to know the captain's demands and exactly what he plans to do with us."

"Perhaps there's an icy plunge in store for your future," another voice joined the conversation, the man that had initiated their kidnapping to be precise. "How's about that for quarter?"

"I think quarter means something different to them," Anne whispered to her brother, popping onto her tiptoes so that she might lean closer to his ear.

"No matter," Frederick again straightened his suit, a nervous habit that Anne had picked up on long ago. "I still demand to meet with the captain."

The man scoffed and chuckled. "Looks to me like you're in a poor position to be making demands, señor."

The woman lifted a hand and the man beside her quieted. With a quick bat of her lashes, she stopped leaning against the support beam and took several steps closer to the cell, placing her face against the bars before reaching inside and pulling Frederick to the point where he was less than an inch from her. Her breath was hot as she blew in his face, immediately flustering him in the process. "I hear your demand."

Frederick silently gulped, using his free hand to pull at the collar of his shirt while his eyes drifted back and forth, to and from her lips. "You—You're the captain?"

She released him with a pleased grin, using his unbalanced footing to her advantage to shove him down onto the ground before taking a step back. "Captain Kidd. Surprised?"

"No—no," Frederick's eyes remained wide as he vigorously shook his head, but he was unable to form any other coherent syllables to continue the conversation while she adjusted the loose-fitting, low-cut top, only drawing more attention to her silhouette.

Anne pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. Realizing that her brother was stunned by the sudden revelation of their female captor, she took it upon herself to defend his wounded pride, preferably before he had a stroke. "What do you want with us?"

"We're simply waiting for the time being," Captain Kidd replied, once more leaning against the support beam. "It takes time for word to spread, but once it does, it's like a wildfire. From there it's just a matter of who's willing to pay the most."

"As my brother has tried to explain earlier within the week, the royal treasury will be more than willing to pay whatever it costs to return us safely home," Anne replied, placing her hands around the bars as she tried to close her distance between them. "No one's listened though, it's ridiculous that it's taken this long—"

"Quiet, Princess," Kidd lunged forward and pressed a finger into her lips. "Prisoners don't get to negotiate. Your offers are worthless. It's the king himself we want to hear from. Unfortunately, that will only come once we reach the port."

"Which port?" Anne asked in confusion, hoping to gain some whereabouts as to where they might be.

"That's strictly on a need to know basis," Kidd replied. "We don't need you getting any ideas about an escape now do we? No. The further back in the dark you remain, the less likely that a glimmer of hope can reach you."

Anne frowned. "You won't get away with this..."

"You're cute, Princess," Kidd chuckled with a sneer. "Wrong, but cute. You may want to get comfortable, you could be here awhile. So welcome aboard the Quedagh Merchant."

Anne's frown deepened at her patronizing tone, and the sinking feeling of her gut fell deeper as Kidd dismissively waved and began to walk away.

"Should you have any other complaints, feel free to take it up with my first," Kidd suggested, calling out over her shoulder as she began to ascend the stairwell that would take her back above. "De Soto's a wonderful listener."

A twisted grin pulled at De Soto's lips as he looked the princess up and down. Anne took a wary step back, but didn't break eye contact, fearing what might happen if she did. De Soto chuckled, then rolled his eyes and shook his head, still laughing to himself as he followed after the captain.

Frederick shuddered as if breaking free from a trance. "Savages... the lot of them."

Anne sighed. "They're pirates, Frederick. Did you expect to be seated in the lap of luxury?"

It was almost as if he was ignoring her as he continued to mutter under his breath. "Savages and whores."

Anne's brow lifted. She'd genuinely never heard her brother refer to anyone so derogatorily, if she wasn't certain before, it was clear he was fuming. Unfortunately, she didn't have any words of encouragement to offer. Their situation was bleak and was only growing worse with each passing moment that they remained aboard the ship.

Sighing, she took a seat against the wall opposite the bars of the cell and leaned her head against the damp wood whilst closing her eyes. Although she'd been privately tutored, her education hadn't provided her with working knowledge of how ships operated or the mechanics behind locks. In the moment, she was simply a pretty face to be gawked at between bars: her worst nightmare come to life.

Without hesitation she could recall proper dining etiquette or the ballroom dances appreciated by high society, but she was clueless when it came to even the simplest terms of sailing much less actually think of ways to escape. For even if they could break out of the cell, they'd still be surrounded by miles and miles of water. Water that had grown turbulent enough to lightly tint the shade of her brother's skin green.

Flashing him a look of concern, she asked about his well-being. "Are you alright?"

Frederick grimaced, forced a smile onto his face, then nodded his head. "I'm faring wonderfully."

Anne slowly opened her mouth to contradict his statement, but something stronger than a wave rocked the boat at the exact moment. Even though she was still seated, the impact was enough to throw her onto the ground atop her brother. Normally he might have pushed her away, but fear kept them pressed up against one another, clutching the other for dear life.

Several screams were heard above deck, and only once they saw the disheveled appearance of De Soto did they know that their fear was justified.

Although still weak, Frederick swallowed and managed to speak. "W—what's going on up there?"

"The gates of hell have opened, señor," De Soto cryptically replied, but his face contained no signs of amusement or delight, only fear. Flashing a quick sign of the cross while clinging to the rosary beads in his hands, the pirate snatched a rifle from the armory wall and sprinted back up the stairs.

Frederick and Anne, although still holding the other for support, offered one another a quizzical look of confusion. However, the answer came in the form of a muscular tentacle smashing through the exterior wall of the cell, snatching the crown prince within its grasp, and leaving the princess alone in a stupor of horror.