Royalbook

Full Name: TIberius "Tim" Barker
Name used: Tiberius or Tim
Age: 58

Appearance:
Tiberius is a rather short man, standing at a meager 5’5”, including the slouch he’s gained over the years. His hair is salt-and-pepper, black-and-gray, and hangs against his neck in the fashion that gives him wisdom and youthfulness together. He wears spectacles on the bridge of his nose, and carries a walking stick, even though he very rarely needs it (he often uses it more as a weapon, instead).

Personality:
Tiberius, while naturally a calming presence, can have quite the temper. He’s nothing of a fight-starter, and most often will just simply be in the backgrounds observing and making aged commentary, but is well aware of what the situation calls for. He’s nothing near a party leader, and will always take the background roles when given an option; however, if thrust into leadership, he can certainly handle himself, and others. Maybe. He loves chamomile tea, and any card game.

When provoked, Tiberius will most likely disable-and-run, thus to preserve his life; however, if someone is in danger, he understands it to be his duty to assist them if at all possible, even if it means dislocating a hip in the process! Given a choice, though, disable-and-flee. Every time. As such, he keeps a supply of Stun Spores on his person when possible.

History:
Tiberius was born in a poor village to the east of Haven, known then as the Barker Village. His father was the mayor of the small town, and did everything in his power to save it from dying out. However, just as bad luck would have it, Tiberius’ village fell under a great storm, wiping out most of the remaining population, and eliminating their entire food supply. At age 13, Tiberius was suddenly both homeless and an orphan.

An old Lord in the harbor town of Haven offered to take him in, having an agreement that Tiberius would later on owe a favor to the throne of Solyria. Tiberius agreed, and their arrangement went on until the old man’s death when Tiberius was nineteen years old. Without anything to turn to, Tiberius used the Lord’s old property and opened a bakery, filling a niche that the little town didn’t quite have then. He met the sweetest woman in his entire world, then, and settled down to begin a family.

Tiberius seemed to have it all. A decent business, a beautiful wife, a gorgeous daughter (who was later on married, with a daughter of her own!). And then The Storm came. It was the second awful storm of Tiberius’ life, and it, once again, broke his heart. His daughter, wife, and son-in-law. All dead. Left with his granddaughter, Coco, he rebuilt his business and tried to get on with life as if nothing had happened at all.

And that was well and good until a Solyrian Ranger showed up on his doorstep late one summer and cashed in on Tiberius’ debt. He was then the obliged godfather of Angelica, the princess of the war.

Skills:
Excellent cook; has amateur skills in enchanting food and few items; uses walking stick as a combat weapon; knows the land and has pull in a few places due to his arrangement with the late king.

I realise some profiles are unfinished/not posted. I'm dealing with those. But if you're ready, let's begin!

Alfie Cale | The Beach in Haven

Tim had finally released them from the dusty bakery, hot from the stoves running all day, at sunset, to go and get some driftwood to aid their little evening fire. The wood reserved for the ovens was never to be touched for the housefire and so the girls spent hours every week beachcombing, finding salty, bleached wood.

Alfie loved it, it was often her favourite part of a day. The whisper of the sea on the sand, the tide sometimes coming up to embrace her bare ankles, the crush of sand between her toes when she squeezed them. As Angelica, her early trips to the seaside had been entirely shoe-wearing, she had never tasted the splash of saltwater, always kept well away from the quickly moving seam between land and ocean. It couldn't do to have the heir to the throne washed away by the sea- although, she thought sadly- that was apparently what had happened to the Prince of Swails, if the rumours were to be believed. She pitied kind Queen Charlotte, wished she could send her sympathies. But of course she couldn't. She was Alfie Cale. She was a nobody.

Although she loved her new life, not a day went past that she didn't think about her old one, did not think about everything she had left behind, did not wonder when it could all be hers again.

Beside her, Coco was singing and dancing in the spray.

"You're incorrigible sometimes," Alfie said, kicking up foam into Coco's face.

"Hey!" Coco flicked back at her and Alfie ducked for cover, giggling, careful not to drop her load of driftwood to let it be carried away home by the waves.

"Coco, you've only managed to pick up one piece of wood! Come on- it'll be dark soo- what are you staring at?" Alfie turned around to follow her surrogate-sister's gaze. They could have been true sisters with their colouring, yellow hair and blue eyes, but other than that there was little resemblance. Coco was no doubt staring at the ships again. Well, "ships." Not much big traffic came in and out of Haven, mainly smaller merchants' vessels and fishing boats. But they were the biggest Coco had ever seen, and Alfie had to pretend not to have waved the armada out of port, or to have stood on the bow of Glory of Solyria cheered on by adoring crowds.

"Is- is that a man coming out of the water?" Coco asked, and Alfie realised she was not looking at the masts of ships in the harbour a little distance away, but to the other end of the beach. And she was right.

It seemed as if a man, walking crookedly and seemingly waterlogged, had just tumbled out of the sea.

Glen | Swails | The Stables

Glen rolled his shoulders, not bothering to stifle the yawn that was bound to come out anyway. The feed pail in his hands was placed back on its respectful hook, the horses having been fed and watered, and the broom was taken from the corner. He liked to keep his stables tidy- straw was for the pens, not the walkway between them.

With one more groggy stretch of his arms and back, the stable boy took to sweeping, starting right up by the stable doors. It had been a neglected duty as of late, as ashamed as he was to have admitted such a thing, and the dust and bedding had piled up a good deal. Simply unacceptable, Glen, he chided himself.

Movement from the corner of the stable door caught his attention, and his eyes drifted upward. There a spider hung, clinging with its very back legs to a thread of silk, seemingly suspended in midair. Of course, he was perfectly aware that if he looked a couple of inches higher, he'd find a web, but that wasn't the point. The creature looked like it was floating, and for something without wings, that was fairly amazing. Then again, Glen thought that everything was amazing. He had to, when life was this simple and routine.

He propped the broom up next to him, leaning on it ever so slightly as he watched the spider. "Do spiders make noises, I wonder?" he murmured. "See, I can't hear, and I don't think I've ever heard nobody talk about it, so I can't say for sure." He watched the thing climb back up that string of silk, smiling as it scurried to the very center of the web. "That's a nice web you've made yourself."

He un-leaned himself, starting to drag the broom along the floor in slow, even stokes again. "I've never been too great at web-spinning, but I suppose that that's a spider thing, so s'not anything I'm too worried about." Really, he knew that the statement was ridiculous, but he wanted a conversation, and to start a conversation with a spider, complimenting its handy work seemed like the best way to start. Not that the spider could respond- or even that he'd be able to read its lips if it could respond. They were much, much too small for him to see from such a distance. Or up close. But still, it was a comforting thing on a chilly morning, to know that you had someone or something to talk to.

"I really do wonder if you make noises, though. It's pro'lly a strange thought, but I wonder about things like that all the time. Then again, I s'pose that if you do make noises, they'd be real quiet ones. Too quiet for any of us to hear. E'en the ones who aren't deaf-" Another yawn cut him off, and he paused to let it pass. "I'll just ask Ferris later. But I'll be leaving you to catch you breakfast, now. I got my own chores to do, anyhow. It was nice talking to you, though." He turned back long enough to smile at the thing, his older self completely aware that talking to spiders was absurd. But Glen had never really cared about what was absurd and what wasn't absurd- he did as he pleased, so long as it wasn't going to harm anyone else.

And his talking to a barn spider certainly wasn't harmful.

He was on his seventh stroke- he'd been keeping track,- when a sliver of light appeared right under his feet. He shifted, giving the light the appropriate amount of space to pass, and turned to smile broadly at the prince.

Glen offered a cheerful, far less groggy, "Mornin'," and kept his eyes on Ferris' lips as he swept.

Good lord, he had beautiful lips. Not that Glen would ever say so. It would be very inappropriate of him.

Full Name: James Thomas Bartleby Charter

Name used: James

Age: 23

Appearance: (picture is optional) James has dark, floppy hair and dark liquid brown eyes, which sometimes give him the appearance of a kicked labrador puppy. He has a straight, long nose and a medium-length face. His cheeks tend to get pink easily when he is cold, embarrassed or laughs too much. James has little dimples in the corners of his mouth which deepen when he is amused. His face is generally very expressive and sometimes lends him a slightly silly air.

Personality: Very innocent and naive for his age, James was never a favourite with his father, Caspar, who wanted someone with a stronger mind and capabilities to succeed him. He subsequently also developed a low opinion of himself. He is currently very dreamy and slightly confused. James has a fun-loving temperament and likes to work with his hands, though he is clumsy and unskilled. This will mend with time. He tends to stammer when he gets nervous, but will hesitantly stick up for what he believes in, even if it costs him some pain. When things get serious, so does he, and shows a completely different side of himself—more efficient, intelligent and brave.

History: As mentioned, James was never favoured by his father, but his mother, Queen Charlotte, was very much attached to him and his shy form of morality. He learnt most of what he knows from her, while his father vainly tried to "give him some spine". He was introduced to Aurelia a year ago and fortunately fell in love. A marriage was soon arranged. This was when his father sent him to the Navy. There was a storm and the ship foundered. The surviving crew members carried the tragic news to Queen Charlotte. In the storm, James was knocked unconscious by a falling beam. He fell onto a piece of wreckage and despite numerous injuries, survived and drifted to shore at Haven.

Skills: James can ride very well and is an agile fencer, though he is not good at mercilessly killing people and rather fences for fun and exercise. He is also well-read and loves poetry, and can play the flute and piano, as well as dance.

Other: He has forgotten everything except his name and his abilities, and will take some time to recover from the more severe wounds he sustained in the storm.

Coco Harwick | The Beach in Haven

The man in the water stumbled forward, falling face-first into the salty surf. Coco squeaked, pressing a hand to her lips as a wave washed over the man's ragged body. Without another moment's hesitation, she hiked up her skirts and ran through the surf toward him.

"Coco!" Alfie called behind her. "Coco we ought to find help-- Coco you're going to get washed away!"

Coco didn't turn, and a moment later Alfie, groaning, ran after her, picking her way through the sunset-stained ocean waves. Coco reached the man in time to lift his head and shoulders onto her lap before another wave could wash over him.

"Ladies..." he mumbled as Coco hitched her arms under his shoulders and began to drag him toward shore. "Ladies in the water..."

"Coco," Alfie said as she reached them. She stopped, dropping her skirts and allowing the waves to wash over her, soaking her to the waist, as she stared at the man's face. "Is that..."

"Alfie, dear," Coco said, her voice strained as she struggled under the weight of the man and his waterlogged clothes. "I may be strong from Grandfather's work, but I'm still only a girl and could still use your help."

Alfie hooked her arm under one of the man's shoulders and took some of the weight from Coco. They reached the beach a few moments later where they lay the man down and fell to their knees on either side of him, exhausted.

"Is he alive?" Coco asked, pressing her hand against his cold, salty face. He coughed, stirring, but didn't open his eyes.

Alfie laughed lightly. "Coco, I think so," she said. "We can't simply leave him here, though."

Coco nodded. She stood again and reached down to lift the man under his arms again. "Help me," she said. "I'm sure Tim won't mind missing a night of firewood, considering." She couldn't help but laugh at the thought of her grandfather when they would come home with an unconscious man in their arms.

I guess this is before the trio sets out. I debated waiting to post, but I couldn't resist. :3
Princess 'Polly' | The Noble's House

"Girls! Wake up!" The usual voice rang through the halls, waking the teenagers from their sleep. "Humph." Polly said into her pillow, pulling the blanket up over her head.
"Come on, Princess! It's time to get up!" Her roommate, Niallia said brightly.
"What if I don't want too?"
"You don't have a choice."
"Oh." Polly slowly lifted the covers to stare at Nillia. "Just for once in my life, I'd like to sleep till I wasn't sleepy anymore." Niallia giggled. "Good luck with that, in this house."
"When Puck and I get married, I won't have to worry about it."
"No, you'll just have to worry about the cooking, the scrubbing, the washing, the mending, the ironing, the sweeping, the bed making, and eventually, the children."
"But at least it will be for Puck. Not someone else. I hate scrubbing for other people."
"Princess, you don't scrub here! We help serve in the dinning room at breakfast, we practice dancing until evening, and then we dance after dinner! So don't complain about scrubbing."
"When I lived at home, I had to scrub the kitchen floor. I'm too important for scrubbing." Niallia looked up from pulling her shift over her head and rolled her eyes. "I don't know how Puck stands you."
"Easy, Dear. He's in love with me."
"Humph."
"You're just jealous before Charlie broke up with you for Nina at the social last week." Polly stopped, knowing she had gone too far. She grabbed her clothes and hastily started pulling them on, her face red. "I'm sorry, Niallia. I hope we can keep that between ourselves. Please don't tell the other girls I was so unkind."
Niallia's eyes widened in surprise. "You never fail to stun me, Pollyanna."
"Does that mean you'll keep it between us?"
"I suppose."
"Thank you!" Polly threw herself at the other girl, wrapping her arms around her waist and hugging her tightly. "You're the best friend anyone's ever had."
"Whatever, Princess. Hurry up getting dress. It'll be time for breakfast soon."
"Of course!" Polly bounced back to her bed, rushing through the rest of getting ready, a wide smile plastered on her face. The crisis had been avoided. She hated it when she said things and it got around to the other girls. Whispers about her following her down the corridor that day. Since gossip was always fresh every day, she wouldn't have to worry the next day, but even one day was horribly embarrassing. As she braided her hair, not even bothering to look in the mirror on the wall, she shivered excitedly. Puck had said that he needed to see her tonight, that something important had happened. Hopefully, that meant that he was going to propose tonight.

Even though she loved to guess when he would finally pop the question, he had yet too, and she was getting rather impatient. Tonight's the night. I just know it! She thought as she left the room, the same smile still plastered on her face.

And there we are! I hope this is okay! Poor Princess... She thinks she's getting a ring tonight!

Ferris | Swails | The Stables

"New friend?" I nodded at the spider hanging from the stable door.

Glen blushed as he smiled and turned back to his sweeping. It was early in the morning and I'd managed to sneak out of my room without Mother noticing. True, I'd had to make a rope out of bedsheets to escape and I may have almost dropped the cat out of the window in the process, but that was irrelevant. And a long story. Mother disapproved of my visits to the stables because she claimed I always returned smelling of manure. Quite frankly, the cat smelt like manure. She didn't get rid of that.

"Hey Lampshade! Table not with you today, is she?" I skipped over to the horse whose head was poking over the stable fence that separated the horses from us human folk. "Nasty Glen, eh? Everyone knows you and Table are lovers in the making, and here he is trying to separate you. Such cruelty he puts upon you, my dear Lampshade."

"You do realise Lampshade's name is actually Amaury, don't you, Ferris?" Glen laughed lightly in response. It was a nice laugh.

I turned back to Lampshade but made sure Glen could still read my lips. "Don't listen to the nasty man, Lampshade. He doesn't know you like I do."

"I know all of the horses extremely well, I'll have you know." Glen stopped sweeping for a moment. "Do spiders make any kind of sound?"

"Not that I'm aware of... Where did the fellow get too anyway?" I turned my concentration to the corner of the stable door, to where the spider was earlier. Narrowing my eyes, I could just see it in the sunlight coming through the crack of the door.

Within seconds, I'd decided to try and pay the fellow a visit. I'd never held a spider before because Mother disapproved of such foolishness, or something like that, so now was my chance. Saying that, I could remember eating one as a child after naming him Darren. Mother disapproved of that too... She didn't approve of much. Except for etiquette. She was big on that one.

"Ferris, be careful..." Glen warned me as I clambered onto the stable fence. "You know what your balancing skills are like."

Amazing, if I may have said so myself. As I grabbed a beam to steady myself, my left foot slipped and was left dangling off the fence. Okay, maybe not so amazing. Still rather impressive though. My head was at least six inches away from the ceiling but more importantly, six inches away from the spider. With my eyes narrowed, I quickly and skilfully swiped my hand above my head. Oh, how I regretted that.

I didn't even notice if I was successful in grabbing the spider because before I could even think of it, the sudden swipe of my hand jolted my body forward a little too much. The next thing I felt was my head banging against the hard, though perfectly swept, concrete of the stable's ground.

"Ferris!" Glen's voice.

My eyelids were fluttering as I lay on the ground. There was a shuffling sound and a pulsating ache at the back of my head. Glen's heavy breath was in my ear. I think he was kneeling beside me.

"Ferris? Ferris, are you okay?"

"Glen, my cat smells like manure," I managed to mutter.

Full Name: Prime Minister Eberhard Bator Caspar
Name used: Caspar
Age: 47
Appearance: Tall and lean Caspar can only be described as dignified.

Spoiler

He almost always wears a black velvet doublet with pieces of plate armour hidden inside the material, several assassinations attempts having made him understandably wary. As a result of a previous attempt he has a scar stretching from his left cheek to his neck. At every public appearance he wears the medallion of his office - gold with a silver pattern and a ruby at the centre. Almost all his fingers have a ring on it, each one with a ruby encrusted at the centre. Underneath his clothes his body carries several scars - from knives, swords and a whip more than once.
Personality: Throughout his life one word has been used to describe Caspar accurately: Ambitious. Though it is followed closely by Ruthless. Those who stand in his way are his enemies, and his enemies tend not to live for very long. Those who are of use are tolerated only as long as their goals can benefit Caspar or Swails in some way. His every move is cold and calculated, with rashness and idiocy being something he despises in a man.
He rewards those who serve him generously and those who fail are punished accordingly. He inspires a certain kind of loyalty in his faction and fear in all the others. He can be charismatic, terrifying or silent depending on the situation.

History: Caspar grew up in a brothel in Swails. He came from nothing and owned nothing. He never knew who his father was and was unsure which of the prostitutes was his mother. By the time he was eight all the prostitutes were dead and Caspar was thrown out. He grew up on the streets after that, running with one of the many dock gangs. When he was 15 he was arrested and thrown in prison for murder.

The guards did not treat the prisoners well, beatings, floggings and organised fights between prisoners were common. It was there with a lack of anything else to defend himself with Caspar discovered his ability to use magic. The first man Caspar made to fight was burnt so horribly that the guards were forced to kill him. After that the other prisoners left him alone but the guards became more vicious putting him in a special cell and covering him in chains so he could not fight back. It continued this way for three years when a Warlock bought him off the prison's commandant and took Caspar under his wing.

The Warlock taught Caspar magic and all it subtleties until the day he was killed by a mob of peasants in a witch-hunt. The Warlock was the closest thing Caspar ever had to a father and Caspar was the closest thing he had to a son and as a result he inherited all of the Warlock's property: d a veritable library of tomes on all things magical and mundane and his position as a Royal Advisor in Queen Charlotte's court. Caspar cultivated his position at court for years, learning people's weaknesses and strengths all while building up his own faction of supporters. He also gathered people from his former life as well. Criminals, former gutter rats, ex-guards and soldiers - skilled killers all. When the previous Prime Minister vacated his position Caspar's rise was almost guaranteed. Those at court who were neither his own men or his allies were too terrified to oppose him.

He was, however briefly, the Queen's lover after his appointment - the result of which was James.

Skills: His magical abilities are second to none in Swails. He can summon and bend the elements to his will. He can both take life and heal, the latter being a gift or rewards to those who are important. He possesses a firm political acumen, having made his way through the vipers nest of politics for years before rising to the top. From his younger years he still retains a skill in knife-fighting and fist fighting.

Other: Carries a small knife with a black blade at his side at all times. Is usually being shadowed by Eskel, his bodyguard/manservant/minion.

Full Name: Luck Demetris

Goes By: Puck

Age: 21

Appearance: Dark red, almost black hair that always seems to be in his eyes. His eyes are the color of worn-to-death, favorite Levis. His skin is tanned from always being outside. He stands at 5'11". Has three scars just beneath his eye. They're vertical, and about half an inch long each.

Personality: Care-free, just live life, gotta smile, make-you-laugh kind of personality. He'll do anything for a laugh. Puck loves music, and can often be caught singing/humming to himself. He sometimes taks credit that isn't his (with smaller things). Puck has a relaxed lifestyle and just wants to live. He loves his girlfriend Polly more than anything, and will do anything for her. Also, he loves his best friend Chuck. He'll do anything for him - he'd take a bullet for him. They're like brothers.
Chuck and Puck are opposites in some ways - Puck likes to have a plan and thinks before acting, whereas Chuck just acts.

History: At the age of five, people broke into Puck's house. His mother hid him in a basket, and through it he witnessed his family be taken away from him. Not long after, the house was foreclosed and Puck had to live on the streets - but he kept looking for his mom, dad, brother Love, and his two sisters Destiny and Fate. At the age of seven, he met Chuck. The two of the worked together for two to three years and became partners in survival and in all their mischeif.

Not long after they were captured by slave traders, who treated them brutally, and were then sold off as a pair (luckily) to a man who treated them worse than animals. He used them for his spying and scheming purposes, and it was here that both Puck and Kingsley honed their abilities. Puck became an expet at sleight of hand, gathering information and adroitness, while Kingsley became a tracker more efficient than any dog. These five years were horrible, as they hated their master with a passion and he in turn, kept them barely alive. Then, when they were of fifteen years of age, their master died mysteriously (something about falling asleep in a kiln), leaving them free.

Here, the friend's separated for a while. Chuck wanted to travel and Puck had had news of his father, who was still living in their home kingdom of Solyria. So Chuck joined some sailors, and didn't see Puck for a good five years.

During that time, a crazy girl named Princess came into the picture. After what he swears is stalking, harassing, and much charm, Puck gave in and the became a couple. Not to mention the fact that meanwhile, he found his father!

Once Chuck came back home, they decided to begin a little agency - a private investigative venture per se. This had been running smoothly for over a year, before both were summoned to court to look for the missing princess.

Skills: Puck knows how to live off of little, he's a great horse rider, a good singer, and a great climber. Puck is handy at hand to hand comnat, and is pretty goid with a knife as well. Not to mention, he's really the only one who can keep Polly in control. He's the best at slight of hand.

Other: Devoted to Polly. Carries a knife on his person at all times (for her sake.) Loves when Polly gets a little mad - he finds it cute.
Also, the handle of his knife is hollow. When opened, you'll find the ring he'll eventually propose to Polly with. When? That's a secret Oh, and much to Princess' dismay, he has the bad habit of smoking every now and then

Full Name: Cadistre William

Name used: Cadis, occasionally Caddy

Age: 22

Appearance: Cadis's figure, of about average height and build, is topped with out-of-control curly brown hair. He's got a decent amount of muscle tone, but nothing extraordinary. His eyes are a soft caramel colour.

Spoiler

Personality: Cadis takes after his lighthearted, quiet mother more than his brothers do. He would prefer to spend his time writing letters, poems, or songs for the lady of his fancy. His greatest desire is to love and be loved, because he thinks that's the way all the world's problems could be solved. His brothers find it tiresome when he swings from dancing in joyful ecstasy to moping around after falling out of a lady's good graces. He wants to be the Prince Charming that rescues a fair maiden and sweeps her off her feet.

He can at times be a bit of a joker. As a younger boy, he'd shinny up a tree or some other precarious place just to see his female caretakers' fits of worry. Even though his jokes may grate on the nerves sometimes, they are usually harmless: a loosened stirrup, a beetle placed in someone's food, or a gibberish note sent to a scholar to translate.

History: Cadis was only six when his mother died, so he was raised by his brothers and the servants. While his father was as loving as could be expected, it always seemed to Cadis he favoured the older boys, especially Smithy.

His childhood and youth were spend in education by tutors and various others, ranging from scholarly topics to horsemanship and combat, but that didn't mean there wasn't enough time for fun. He took great pleasure from driving mad those responsible for him.

He has always had a better relationship with Octavian than Smithfield, but they were both rather distant, as they spend more time outdoors or with their father, while Cadis preferred to stay mostly inside.

Skills: Like his brothers, he's good at climbing trees and rocks. Cadis is not as talented as his brothers at swordplay or horsemanship, but he's not too shabby. His more inherent talent is music.

Other: He doesn't care nearly as much about the inheritance that comes with finding the princess (although that is of course a factor) as the princess herself.

Alfie Cale- The Road to the Bakery, Haven

Coco and Alfie both slung an arm around the man and hoisted him up, carrying him up over the sand onto the road. They paused to put their shoes on, first Coco supporting all the man's weight as Alfie did so, then Alfie doing the same favour for her. But her heart was thumping. Because she knew exactly who he was.

Prince James and Angelica had been friends whenever the fates threw them together. Just two years younger than her, often their families would go to one another's summer estates and the two would play hide and seek, or chess, or lie reading and talking in the hammocks, or raid the kitchens. She would try and teach him piano and he would fail miserably and they would laugh about it. The last time she had seen him she had been thirteen, he eleven. That was a long time ago. But those brown eyes were the same, his cheeks lighting up pink like they always did.

And if he recognised her, then Alfie had no idea what would happen.

"M-maybe we should take him to the apothecary, and not home," she suggested to Coco.

"Why would we do that? Grandfather's is much closer-"

"But if he's hurt-"

"Then you can help him, or run and fetch Mr Grant. I know you're not supposed to move sick or injured people too much," said Coco. "Can you hear us?" she asked the man. "Do you think we're hurting him?"

They were basically dragging him along, and Alfie looked down. His feet were bare- he must have kicked off his boots in the water to stop them weighing him down. They were beaten and bloody already, and their fashion of carrying him couldn't have helped. "You take his shoulders, I'll take his legs," she said to Coco, but just as they began to move, the man groaned into life.

"Hello?" Coco hung her blonde head over the man's. "Sir, can you hear me?"

He groaned again.

"Do you know your name? Do you know how you got here?"

"N-name... James," he managed, squeezing his eyes shut as if the evening light was burning his vision.

Alfie swallowed, hid her face in her hair, hoping he wouldn't recognise her.

And he didn't, because he had lost consciousness once more.

James—The Bakery, Haven

“Do you think he was in a storm?”
“Perhaps. We’ll find out when he wakes up.”

James groaned and tried to move, but realising that the exercise was futile, settled instead for opening his eyes and squinting at the creamy ovals hanging over him.

“He’s awake!”

He laboriously worked his tongue loose from the roof of his mouth. The ovals were shimmering into focus. Two faces.
“Are you mermaids?” he rasped. One of them giggled.
“Drink this—you’ll feel better,” said the woman who wasn’t giggling, and a cup was pushed against his lips. He took a gulp and instantly regretted it as a torrent of steaming liquid washed down his throat and straight into his waterlogged lungs. He rocketed upright, spluttering and wheezing. Stabs of pain from various parts of his body ensued.
“Are you mermaids?” he demanded, ignoring a very persistent throb from his shoulder.
“No. We’re humans,” said the giggly one. “Look—no tails, see?”
“Oh. Just one question. Um—where am I?”
The giggly one burst out laughing, but the other one reprimanded her. As his eyes started to function, James noticed that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She flinched as she noticed him staring at her, turning away slightly.
“You are in Haven,” she said. “That is Coco, and I am Alfie.” She gave him a dubious look from the corner of her eye. “My name is Alfie.”
“I’m James. You are Alfie and she is Coco.” Alfie looked slightly relieved at this, but then James’ eyes started to water from the salt encrusted on them and he couldn’t see them anymore.

“Are you hurt, sir?” Alfie asked. “I think I should fetch Grandfather. I really think we ought to—”
“How did I get here?” James asked. “I feel like I drank too much...”
“You were washed up on the beach,” said Coco. “We thought you might have been in an accident, like a storm.”
“We were hoping you could tell us what happened. Coco, I think we should tell Grand—”
“He’s tackling the difficult pastries. We shouldn’t interrupt,” said Coco. “We’ll tell him when he finishes.”

Eberhard Caspar | Swails Royal Palace

Caspar leaned forwards in his leather backed chair, his jaw clenched as he curled his fist around the goblet.

“Are you sure?” He demanded of the fat, pockmarked man before him. The man snorted like the pig he was as he averted his eyes, suddenly finding the cap in his hand interesting.

“We searched for days, m'lord, but found no trace of the prince.” Caspar stared at the man who, like many others, squirmed beneath his iron gaze. The Prime Minister did not respond and the silence stretched until the man was wiping sweat from his brow. “We looked for many leagues in every direction from the wreck but I swear, m'lord, we found nothing.” Caspar grunted and waved the man away, who bowed and eagerly left the room. Caspar jumped to his feet and downed the wine in one go before walking to the decanter and refilling it.

“Where do we stand?” Asked Marcellus, a royal advisor, from his chair beside the window. Caspar sighed and downed yet another goblet.

“We must cosign ourselves to the fact that the prince is lost. Ferris will marry the girl and take the throne.” Said Caspar as he filled the goblet for a second time.

“Perhaps it is for the best.” Suggested Innisvy, another member of the court who stood by the door, a goblet in hand. “You always said James was a useless boy.” Caspar stopped his hand mid reach towards the decanter. He took a deep breath and spun around to face Innisvy, flashing his warmest smile.

“He was a useless boy.” Caspar agreed as he paced towards the councillor. When he was but a few paces away Caspar's hand struck out, the blade of his hand striking against Innisvy's throat. The Councillor dropped to his knees, coughing and choking violently. Caspar rammed his knee into the man's head and kicked him twice after he dropped to the ground. “But he was my boy.” Caspar growled, his voice low yet the entire room heard it, and the threat behind it.

“Leave us.” The Prime Minister ordered the groaning man. “You will resign in the morning and be thankful you still have your life.” Innisvy struggled to his feet.

“Thank you, my lord.” He said as best he could, his throat burning with each word. Caspar turned and walked back to his drink. Marcellus and the three other councillors who sat around the room looked shocked, though they said nothing, while Eskel, being the base born gutter rat that he was, had a slightly sadistic smile on his face.

“Raise the reward to six thousand marks and a lordship on the Molten Shore.” Caspar commanded, his voice now void of the anger and steel that had dominated it merely seconds ago. Marcellus nodded.

“I'll have it done as soon as I leave.” He promised. “What are we too do about the matter at hand?” Another councillor asked.

“I shall discuss the matter with the Queen.” Caspar promised. “She will be made to see the right path.” He took a sip from the goblet and sighed happily.
“Eccleston wine, It will be a shame to see it go.”

“It is a luxury I shall miss.” Marcellus agreed, finishing his own drink. The other councillors chimed in their own feelings on the matter, knowing that it was time for the banal, pointless conversations that always ended their meetings. After a minute or so Caspar put an end to it by laying down his goblet and walking to the window, a sign known to all that he wished to be alone. They left and Eskel began to clean up with the same determination and speed that he attacked every problem with.

“Send a runner to the Queen.” Caspar ordered as he stared out at the great harbour of Swails and the almighty war fleet assembled there. “The clouds of war are gathering.” He smiled to himself as Eskel left the room. “I wonder where the lightening will strike first.”

Puck|Near the Nobles' House

I struck a match, bringing it to the cigarette that dangled from my lips. Polly hates that I smoke, but it sure is funny when she smells it on me.

"Wanna make a bet?" Chuck inquired, leaning against the shop behind us.

Removing the cigarette, I chuckled, "Depends on what it is."

He looked at me, his eyes laughing as he said, "I bet Princess thinks you're proposing tonight.

I laugh rolled out of my mouth, and I replied, "Chuck, i'd be a stupid man to bet against you on that one."

"How do you think she'll take it?"

I pondered the question for a moment, dropping my cigarette. Crushing it with mu boot, I replied, "Being stuck with you? Well Chuck, she may just throw a fit."

Chuck gave me that look, that I-can't-believe-you're-still-with-her look. A smirked and said, "I love her to death, Chuck."

Shoving my gands in my pockets, I announced, "I'm gonna go meet Princess, tell her what's going on."

Princess 'Polly' | The Garden of the Noble's House

Polly sat on a garden bench, reading her book, looking up every five seconds to see if Puck had appeared at the gate yet. The book could usually keep her occupied for hours, few people knew what a book worm she was-- but today it just didn't have its usual power. She stared at the page, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Hello Beautiful." said a voice in her ear. She jumped six inches in the air with a little yelp, than turned around. "Luck Demetris!" She screamed. "You scared me half to death!"
He pouted. "I'm sorry!" She glared at him and sniffed. "No you aren't. And you've been smoking again. I swear, Puck--"
"It's not very lady like for a girl of your standing to swear, now is it?"
"Puck..."
He winked at her. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." sitting down beside her, he took her hand. "Hi Princess."
"Hello." She sniffed, closing her book and looking away from him.
"Aw, come on Princess! You can't be mad at me!"
"I'm not mad."
"Yes you are."
"No I'm not."
"Then kiss me." She turned around and stared at him. "But your breath smells."
"Please."
"No."
"Fine, I guess I'll tell you why I've come."
She grinned. "Okay."
"So... There's the search... And I've have been called to help. And I want you to come with us."
"You want me, to come with you, on a trip?"
"Yes."
"Really and truly?"
"Uh huh."
"I'd love to Puck!" She said happily, bouncing up and down.
"And um...Chuckiscomingwithus." he said in a rush, looking down at the ground.
"What did you say?" Polly froze, and stared at him, her eyes narrowing.
"Chuck is coming with us." He whispered, his eyes crinkling with silent laughter.
"HE'S WHAT?" She sprung up, dropping his hand. All thoughts of a romantic adventure forgotten, all she felt was pure anger.
"Coming with us."
"Luck Demetris. I hope you're joshing me."
"We were both called, Polly! This isn't just a trip, it's an actual job!"
"I can't believe you! I wouldn't have agreed to go if I had known he was going!"
"Yes you would have." He said, looking tired.
"We're leaving in a couple of days. And I don't know how long we're going to be gone. Until we find the Princess I guess."
"We're on this 'quest' to save the princess? The one that's dead?"
"Yes."
"You people are insane!"
"Will you still go, Princess?"
"I guess." He sighed. "I really didn't mean to make you angry, Princess. Really I didn't. I knew you'd react this way."
"Well, you need to learn how to break news better."
"I guess I better go."
"Goodbye." She sniffed. He stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist. Kissing her quickly, he released her. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay." He left the garden, shooting her a grin as he left.

Polly sat down on the garden bench, hard. Cursing quietly to herself for being wrong, again, she went back to her book, thinking murderous thoughts about Chuck. I will find some way to get him to leave this quest, She thought determinedly. Some way.