Dylan gave me a look of confusion with a little bit of amusement hidden in them eyes of his. I looked back at him and averted me eyes to where me sword was. He squinted at me, losin' the amusement, before glancin' down. His eyes widened as his chest rose and sank quickly in a chuckle.

"You wouldn't be that cruel, would you?" He asked. 

"SHE'S A PIRATE, BROTHER!" Atza shouted while laughin'. "Of course she can use that move!"

"It seems a bit..." Dylan bit his bottom lip while shakin' his head. "Critical for a boy like myself."

What the Hell did I do? Eh.... Should I really say such words? Ye know what? I'm a damn pirate; who cares what I have to say. 

So Dylan merely used his hands to put me against his chest instead of  grabbin' both me wrists to make me lose control of me sword. Because of this, I may or may not have aimed me sword blade at his crotch. 

It's a clever tactic, okay? Me father taught it to me when I was younger. It especially works for a Royal since.... ye know.... to stay in power, they need to have children. I used it twice. Both times on me own father. It's probably the reason why I'm an only child.

"Ye wouldn't really do that to me, right Coora?" he asked, the smallest bit of skeptics hintin' in his voice.

"Well...." I said, thinkin' of the right words. "Ever wonder why I'm an only child?"

With his eyes widened at the most, Dylan narrowed his brows, probably shocked out of his poor mind, and loosened his grip on me a bit. I then realized just how close we were, and I felt meself blushin' and hearing Atza's snorts. Wait! OH NO! I can't be seen like this if the king comes by!

"Well, I don't mind being this close," he then whispered in me ear. "Unless you want to move, we can stay like this."

"Uh...." I said, dumbfounded by his reaction to the current event. "Isn't it against etiquette to be standin' this close to a lass not of your family...?"

"It is," he replied. "But when is a pirate one to go with etiquette?"

He had a point there. But I didn't want me head taken off me shoulders because of the prince goin' against those rules! 

"Well, I don't want to die at age twelve, Lad," I said while quickly gettin' out of his grasp. "Do ye not have any sense of selflessness? Le gràdh Dhè, a bheil thu ag iarraidh orm a dhol mo Damn ceann a ghearradh dheth?!"

Dylan and Atza both looked at me with shock. I put me hand over me mouth and turned away from the two. Fhalbh! I am so idiotic! Coora, can ye not make a fool of yeself in front of Royalty?! You just swore in their faces! Sure, they may seem kind and forgivin', but ye never know when it could all be some kind of facade! Damn Dia e!

"Lass?" Atza then said. "Ye there?"

I shook me head slowly. I couldn't look those two in the eye after what I just said. "Ye two are too forgivin' for a pirate like meself," I said. "Ye let me say such things to ye without reportin' it."

"What did you even say at the end?"

I sighed and clenched me fists. I'm guessin' she didn't listen to Jack's lectures on Gaelic. Wouldn't blame the lass. I don't think I would want to learn a different language if I didn't need to. 

I could feel Dylan's eyes borin' into the back of me head. He knew what I said. What me damn, dirty mouth just fuckin' spoke. I could feel me face palin' as his footsteps came towards me. When I felt his hand go over me shoulder, I flinched and shut me eyes close. 

 Dylan, probably feelin' me discomfort, took his hand off and spoke. "Is that what my father does to Scots? Take them to the guillotine?"

I slowly nodded. "The last time he used it for me family was for me mother's father. Grandfather Henry." I said Seanair's name in an English accent then. I almost never did that unless I was solemn or serious about somethin'. I continued to speak the way me mother did. "My grandfather wasn't even Scottish; he was an English man killed with no reason..."

"You... you speak like an English lady," Atza said, awe filling her voice. "That's... incredible! You can hide your identity by speaking like an English! You sound so different from your high-pitched, Scot voice."

"Atza..." I heard Dylan growl under his breath. "She's being serious about something. This is no time to speak about her sudden accent change."

"No," I then said. "It's... alright." I then turned to the Royal siblings. "I'm use to others realizing my English side lives hidden inside me."

It was then that I realized tears were filling my eyes. I felt them comin' down faster and faster, and I felt ashamed to be crying in front of Royalty. Suddenly, Atza wrapped her arms around me. Surprised by the sudden action, I stayed still for a long time. I wasn't use to hugs from others. Father was usually yellin' at me, but even though Mother hugged me, it wasn't often.

After a short while, I finally returned the embrace. I felt myself shaking from the soft sobs that came from me. I never cried much in my life. The last time I cried was when I was five. It was the first time I ever got lashed by my father. He told me the more I cried the more lashes I would get. So I stopped.

"It's alright, Lass," Atza said. "Were you close to him?"

"Grandfather?" I sniffed. "Yes... very. He was the only one, aside from me mother, that said it was okay to show me feelings."

When I was little, Seanair Henry would always take me on long walks and speak about the stars. He would tell me that the shooting stars would rain down for me and other little girls that are as bright and beautiful. He was always there for me when the children of Scotland were mean and brutal about my English side. Seanair especially loved the Scottish culture. It was the main reason why he let my mother marry my father- when he wasn't so rude.

"Coora!" Well speak of the Devil, it was me damn father. "Dè ann an ainm Dhè a tha thu a 'dèanamh, a' gabhail a Rìoghail?!"

I quickly took me hands off Atza, wipin' the rest of me tears with the edge of me thumb, and stood extremely still in front of me father. He looked even scarier in the entryway to the courtyard. His dark eyes gleamed a red color as he growled with anger. His beard was merely a stubble, but it made him seem like a horrid creature ready to attack.

"Ye are comin' with me, young Lass!" he shouted as the butler was becoming frightened and left. "I thought ye Mother said this was for sword fightin'! Not playtime with Royalty!"

He quickly stomped over to me, grabbed me wrist with such force that I let out a hoarse scream, and started to drag me along with him. However, before we reached the entryway, Jack came walking towards me father. His blue eyes stared into Father's brown ones with boldness and confidence. Oh God... is he going to shout at me father?

"Don't you know that it's disrespectful to do such an act to a lady?" He asked in a calm voice.

"Out of me way, Bastard," Father scowled. "I've had enough of your family's ways. Taking Jaclyn off the throne and killing her father was enough; I don't want to lose me daughter to ye pigs, too."

"Your pushing her away from you yourself, sir." He gestured over to Father's death grip on me wrist. "If you really want to protect her, I suggest you be more kind to her." He looked in me father's face again. "Chan eil mi a 'tuigsinn dè tha thu' ciallachadh le m 'athair a' gabhail air falbh do bhean a righ-chaithir, ach bidh mi ag ràdh seo, tha thu a 'toirt air falbh do nighean rian." I don't understand what you mean by my father taking away your wife's throne, but I will say this- you are taking away your daughter's sanity. 

Father was in shock by Jack's change in language, but he quickly tightened his grip even more- as if that wasn't at all possible at this point- and led me through the halls of the castle. However, before we could even take a couple of steps forward, I kicked his shin and ran towards the porch nearby. 

Before me father could stop me with his screams and shouts, I took a leap from the high area, seeing the confused and shocked looks from the Royal siblings, and into the waters of the cold ocean.