“Aislin.” Kayah Jackson, daughter of Chief George V and First Princess of Lupan, stared in exasperation at the woman who had served as Nanny, Governess, and Tutor to the eldest daughter of Lupan’s High Chieftan for fourteen years - since Kaya had been chosen by her father to fulfil the contract owed to Warre. “The High King is not going to be on the flagship. He has better things to do than traipse across the straight in a six hour journey to ferry his betrothed across.”
“Hmph!” The burly human woman sniffed derisively. “No Warreic High King would ask ye to make the journey by yerself!” And then she tried - for the fifth or seventh time - to shove one of a new wardrobe of gowns into Kayah’s arms to get the princess to put it on. “Yer a Princess, Kayah! Ye need to look the part!”
“It’s not practical to wear a gown on a ship!” Kayah refused the deep blue gown yet again. It was beautiful, she admitted, and would emphasize the gold and auburn highlights in her brown hair and bring out the shock of her unusually colored silver-tipped ebony fox ears. But she didn’t like dresses. “I want to be free to move about the ship if I need to. You can blame those sailing lessons Uncle Mohin gave me if you’d like.”
When Kayah had turned eight, she had cajoled her father’s second brother - then the commander of the fleet - to teach her how to sail…and how to operate the naval weaponry Warre was famous for. The first was common knowledge. The latter, however, was knowledge held in sacred trust by her uncle’s most trusted crew - which had included her elder brother Pravar. Upon their uncle’s retirment - he’d gotten sick in the lungs during the Great Freeze - Pravar had taken his position and promoted every single soldier in the crew. Everyone who knew that the High Princess of Lupan could pull her weight behind the weapons of a Naval Vessel and had spent two and a half years learning to do so from the ground up was a captain, with two exceptions.
One was Pravar - who’d been the admiral of that part of the fleet at the time - and the other was the Admiral under which all of those captains now served - then the captain of the vessel. Her father had never found out, though it was generally an open secret…one that everyone suspected but couldn’t get anyone else to confirm. In part, that was due to disinterest on George’s part. Once he’d decided what to do with Kayah to better Lupan politically, he’d lost interest in his eldest daughter. The other part was that he’d been duped by the crew, by Mohin, and by Cochise who had spent months at a time on the ship teaching Kayah between her lessons, while Aislin had constantly been found muttering her approval about her ‘Proper Warreic Lass’ and keeping a watchful eye on the crew. Not that she need’ve worried. The crew had to a man seen Kayah as a daughter, a sister, or (later) one of their own.
“Pah! Let’s not talk about practical when ye’re a princess and ye dunnae want to look nice when ye meet yer betrothed!”
“That’s not it…” Kayah said softly. She frowned. “No. I’m not going to wear a dress on the flagship!” At Aislin’s disheartened look, she sighed. “If it will appease you, I will borrow the captain’s cabin and change into the dress while we go through docking procedures and they get the dowry unloaded.” Kayah fought the uge to grimace. In her culture, the men usually made a gift of cattle or some other good to the bride’s father as a sign of wealth. She wasn’t sure what to think about her father’s decision to send a dowry to the Ard Ri of Warre. It felt like he was paying someone to marry her. Like she wasn’t good enough to marry otherwise.
Kayah straightened her spine and mentally strapped a length of steel down it. She lifted her chin in what she knew was a haughty way and examined the woman she saw in the mirror. Expressionless, if you didn’t look closely enough at the eyes - which few people in politics cared to do. She didn’t have the porcelain skin of an angel…she’d spent too much time working alongside the Lupans living in Dejaal since the Great Freeze trying to rebuild and get the city back to its prosperous prime. Bijii hadn’t had quite as many problems, but the capital city was situated further south on the island that the Lupan people had originated from. Their home before they’d expanded to Dejaal along the coast and inland. Still, Kayah liked to think that she had appeal. Hoped that her human husband with his strange american culture would find her appealing.
Lupan’s princess didn’t think twice about a marriage of love. As far as examples went, the High Chieftan of Lupan and his wife, the High Healer, set a loveless one, if not one prosperous as far as children went. So Kayah hoped only that she and the Ard Ri found each other’s company bearable.
Kayah sighed as she pulled out the clothes that she’d commissioned for the journey and began - with the help of Aislin - to dress. Without proper time during the docking procedure to do her hair, Kayah reluctantly allowed Aislin to place the long brown tresses into an elegant style atop her head that would have to be repinned, no doubt, after the wind of the sea got hold of it. She then forced herself to sit still as the older woman worked the silver-tipped black hair of Kayah’s tail until it shone.
As the sky to the east brightened and the first glowing curve of the sun rose steadily above the water, Kayah walked onto the dock with her father’s elbow in hers and Aislin shortly after the pair. The princess’ posture had gone from perfect but relaxed to rigid and terrified that she would make a mistake in an instant when she’d seen that Chief George was escorting her to the ship. He’d claimed he would, of course, but she’d still hoped beyond hope to see Pravar in his place when she’d stepped out of her suite, dressed immaculately in loose but comfortable clothes to sail in. He had taken a long, slow look at her outfit and his upper lip had lifted in derision. Kayah was sure if they hadn’t been short on time, he would have made her change. But Chief George wouldn’t let them be late to such matters, so he left it alone.
A figure broke away from the crowd at the end of the dock, where the workers were waiting to moor the ship when it arrived. Kayah’s ears perked up and she brightened at the sight of her brother as he moved to her, reaching down and hugging her tightly.
“I’m scared.” She whispered into his ear, the seaman blocking the much smaller body of the princess from view. He drew back after a moment and his jaw tightened as his father drew Kayah almost harshly back to his side. Pravar tweaked Kayah’s ear, but it was their father that he stared down as he spoke.
“He’ll love you, Little Fox.” Pravar grinned. He winked and flicked one ear back as a sound caught his ear. On the dock, several heads rose at once, fox ears lifting to the sound of the waves that had changed, just slightly.
He’s Here. The waves told Kayah only a few seconds later when she heard it as well, the steady rush of the waves breaking around the curved body of a ship.