Don't panic, Ella.

You're fine, okay. Not only are you unharmed, but there isn't some mysterious yet frightening looking guy chasing after you. Oh, and your fiancé wasn't killed, either. Nope. I'm just fine.

I grasp the front of my dress, pulling it up so I could run without tripping over useless fabric. The thing is, I couldn't get away very fast with heels on. I spin around, kicking both of my heels at the guy. They didn't hit him, but they sure did confuse him enough for his feet to get slower.

"Think, Ella. Where would a bunch of guards be?"

In an instant, an idea comes to my head. The front gate of the castle had at least twenty guards or so. But since today is- was my engagement party, there will be at least twice as many guards keeping watch. I stumble a sharp right, heading into the ballroom that we were supposed to use for my party but didn't. I slam the door closed before he can get inside, twisting the key plunged into the lock. Backing away, I eye the space, looking for some window the was open.

I don't care how I get out, but I need to do it now. The door handle is grasped and starts to violently shake. I narrow my eyes, giving a small smirk. If he wanted to get me so bad, he would have to try a lot harder. I've been running my whole life, I think I can handle myself in these kind of situations. Next thing I know, the door is trying be kicked down.

So far, here's what I know. My fiancé is dead, let's get that out of the way. Somehow, my mother smiled at me to run. Yeah, that's a new one. Now this guy, dressed in black, carrying three pistols is starting to chase me. For what reason? I have no idea why. I wish I knew this real guys name, it would make things a lot easier for when I die. Instead of screaming out please, I'd try to use his name to throw him off.

The door stops shaking and the kicking quiets down. I lift a brow, wondering why he had just stopped all of a sudden. With a huff, I start to take of my goofy looking dress. Underneath, I wore a skin tight, long sleeved shirt with shorts underneath. Corsets are a waste of time. I always have them on under dresses just in case something like this were to happen. It, uh, rarely does, but still. It came in handy today.

I start to walk around the room, looking for any ways to get out. There seemed to be no way through the windows unless you were to throw yourself out of said window. And now, here I am trapped, thinking I'm safe for a few moments doesn't last. The door on the other side of the room opens, revealing the mysterious, 'I'm going to hunt you down' guy.

I forgot to check the other door. Good job me! Now you're going to be shot, bleed out, and when you get to heaven, you're going to get a firm slap on the hand from all your dead friends and family that actually liked me.

"Uhm," I raise a hand to get his full attention. Not like I didn't already have it. "I kind of don't want to die today, I'm going to say that now."

He lets go of the door handle and starts to walk over to me, both hands near his pistols. I would have started to run by now but I'm standing in the middle of the ballroom, frozen in my tracks. If I were to start running now, he would catch me before I could unlock the door and get away. This time, I'm either going to die, or he needs to spare some mercy.

I clench my fists, knowing I could've put up a better fight than I had. Really? Run into a ballroom and lock the door? Why not just keep running until you got to be guards at the front gate? I guess I didn't want to run after all. Now I'm going to die and mother is never going to see me again, not like she cares for me, but I think she might feel some pain. I'm her only daughter. She has to love me somewhat.

Closing my eyes, I wait for the inevitable that was to come. It all happens sooner or later, but I guess I wanted to live a bit longer? Mother had a life picked out for me and I didn't want to live it, but I would've taken life over death. Everyone would.

His long, almost breathtaking footsteps echo through the room while I flinch at every single step. The feeling in my gut was enough to make me want to vomit. My stomach twists, turns, flips upside down and there is nothing I can do but take it. Two firm footsteps stop in front of me, the shadow of another mixing with my shaking one. I start to feel a bit relaxed knowing that if he hadn't killed me yet, maybe he wouldn't. Braving to look at him in a closer perspective, I peek open one eye to look through my raven black hair.

There he was, standing over me with nothing but two piercing blue-green eyes and a bright white smirk. I don't think I'd ever admit it to myself, but I found him attractive. He had the perfect amount of stubble and his eyes were almost almond shaped. He smells of the sea, something I found uncommon. Not many people go down to the beach. They would rather be stuck-ups, sitting in their houses drinking overpriced tea and wearing silly outfits.

I stare at him in the eyes for a long time, entranced at how pretty they were; he stared back into mine just as deeply.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" I speak up, setting my hands down on my hips.

Yeah, I'm still scared out of my mind but I think, whatever he's going to do, he's not going to take no for an answer. He seems like one of those guys that always get their way, no matter how ridiculous it may be. His smirk dies down, my lips pursing into a nervous smile.

"Aye, I was." He finally speaks, his voice sounding like it was being scratched on sandpaper, or when men get up in the morning.

"So why didn't you?" I whisper, feeling a little overwhelmed.

He lifts up a hand, curling his finger around a few strands of my hair. I blush, not liking the feeling of him touching me or my hair. His eyes, after being so soft just a second ago, regain their cocky gleam. A mischievous man he is.

"My crew thought you were too... pretty." He lets go of my hair, letting his hand fall back beside his hip.

I blink, slightly confused at the 'crew' part. So this guy had a real boat to sail on? Did he transport cargo for other countries?Surely he had a good reason. If he didn't, I think I might know why he attacked my castle, smells like the sea, and has a crew. Let's face it. I'm pretty dense when it comes to things like this.

"Do you happen to transport cargo from one place to another?" I question, tilting my head to the side with a perplexed expression. I already knew the answer, though.

He opens his mouth to retort his answer, but his eyes start to glaze over and he starts to wobble around like he was drunk. Before he hits the ground, his hazy eyes lock with mine and he gives a painfully sweet smile. His eyes close and he falls back, hitting the ballroom floor painfully hard. Prying my wide eyes away from his sleeping figure, I look up to see my mom standing there with many guards, one guard holding a blow pipe. Mother gives me a glare, seeing I didn't have my dress on anymore. I clasp a hand over my mouth, kneeling down beside his body. I poke and prod at him, seeing if he would wake up. Reaching my hand out, I pluck the sleeping dart from his neck, giving a wholehearted smile. I'm just glad they didn't kill him.

This guy seems to be pretty interesting. He has a different vibe that makes him feel unique. I want to learn more about him, what he does, who he is. I feel around in his top pockets, looking for any clues as to who this guy really is. Something pricks my finger and I snatch my hand from he pocket, looking down at my bleeding index finger. With narrowed eyes, I reach back in, careful not to hurt myself this time.

What I pull out is definitely the answer I've been looking for. It was a metal pin, slightly rusted from top to bottom. The logo on the clip on pen was a skull and crossbones, the theme pirates usually have. I shove the metal pin into my back pocket, not wanting Mother to see it. If she did, she would kill him.

I was always told that pirates were evil and cruel, never to be messed with. But it seems that yet again I have let my curiosity get the best of me. Mother will be better off not knowing what this guy is. I want to stay away from this guy, he killed my best friend in the whole world, but I can let anyone else die, even if it is Johnson's murderer. Plus, you can't blame a girl for liking what she sees.

"Miss Ella, are you alright?" A guard asks, bending down to the pirates body.

I give a bright smile, feeling the happiest I've felt in a long, long time. This was my start to have some action for once. Ever since I was little, I've wanted to be a pirate, maybe even be one. My chance to get away? Now I have it.

"I'm quite fine. Where will you be taking him?"

"To the prison cell in the castle basement," Mother speaks up, walking up to me with arms crossed behind her back.

"Why isn't he being killed?" I push further, wanting more answers.

"Because we need to know more about him first. Where he comes from, what he does, who he is. He can't just kill him, as much as I want to." Mother hisses down at his sleeping body.

"I'll guard him." I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest.

Mother goes to protest, but none of the guards say anything to deny my request. She gives a huff, rolling her eyes and waving off at me.

"Fine. You may watch him."

I breathe out a sigh of relief, putting a hand to my chest. My heart is beating so fast it might beat out of my chest, I'm not going to lie. The guards start to drag away the guy while I'm right behind them, a slight skip in my step. I would've went to see Johnson but I can't handle seeing him like that for a second time. Never again.

Sorry, Mother. But I think you just let your daughter off her leash.