Herc could still feel the warmth on his cheek of the kiss left there by Meeka long after he had watched them descend the stairs. So much had happened in the last few hours that his head and heart were still spinning. As he held the small ivory horse, he rubbed it with his thumb, lovingly. How many years had passed since he had last held the chess piece, yet the memories of the last time came flooding back like it was yesterday.

But now was not the time to think of such things. He had not been entirely honest with Meeka about the situation. High Lord Moreau had indeed put a call out for all ships to return to port, however, it was not only for a thief that the authorities were looking for. The official charge was “kidnap of the Lord Grand Duke Dominique DuPont Francisco Moreau of the Western Kingdom of Rouen,” which had since been declared an act of war. All ships had been ordered to turn back at once, but Herc had belayed the order for a quarter of an hour. He had wished to gain enough time to speak to Meeka after dinner, and arrange the manifest correction. He had hoped to blame the delay on the poor communication systems of the older ship, or perhaps his youth as a captain. But his porter had informed him during dinner that “fireworks” were set to begin at midnight; the code that an enemy vessel was due to intercept.

As the hour approached, he clutched the figure even more tightly in his fist. The person he now knew as Meeka was not the little boy he remembered, but rather a uniquely beautiful person who had captured his heart and attention all over again. At first, he had thought merely to befriend them and attempt to convince them to return to the Capital to keep peace between the factions. After their meeting, however, he knew he must protect the rare and amazing person now sitting upon the Grumpy Bon-Bon. But as the first warning shots shook the hull of the ship, he couldn’t help but wonder if protecting them was worth starting another war.

Yes, he thought as he passed a thumb over the smooth surface of the game piece once more. Yes, it’s worth it. They are worth all of it.

“Sir? Your orders?” His second in command had been speaking at his elbow for some time, though he hadn’t noticed.

With a deep breath, he tucked the small horse into his breast pocket. “Increase power to shields and run the white flag. I refuse to lose a single life over a misunderstanding.” Gods, I hope James remembered to use the cloak or we’re all dead.

The orders were carried out and, within minutes, High Lord Rothburn Jacques Moreau, His Royal Highness of the Western Kingdom, was striding across the deck to meet Captain Southerford and his shivering crew. Herc’s heart beat in his ears, but he was seasoned enough to remain steadfast; prepared for war as any good soldier is. What he was not prepared for, however, were the piercing eyes that met his, as cold as ice and as sharp as any blade. Two decades had not changed the cruel-looking features, save for the addition of a snowy crest to his stiffly slicked back hair. The young officer gulped as he tried to push the memories of the last time he saw that face out of his mind.

“Captain Southerford, I presume,” said the stoic man with a curt solute.

Herc gestured in kind, making note of the significant height difference between the man before him and his off-spring. If Herc had felt overshadowed by Meeka in heels, their father was a mountain. But I can’t let him rattle me, again. Meeka needs me to be strong. I can be strong for them. “Your Majesty. I am humbled by your presence aboard my vessel.” He added a low bow to his greeting.

The Lord scoffed. “A passenger vessel. And you, from so long a line of proud military men.”

“Peace time is difficult for those who seek glory,” the young man recited.

“Quite right. Now, if you will kindly explain your delay. What possessed you to ignore a direct order?!”

“My Lord, our coms have been experiencing difficulty. In an older ship such as this—“

“We have scanned your communications network and found no such flaw, so please— do try again!”

Herc gulped hard, opening his mouth to speak. However, a small voice from beside him spoke up. “It was me, your Majesty. I am at fault, not our Captain.” Herc’s eyes were wide as he looked to his side.

“A lowly Porter? Why would you have control over a Captain’s actions?!”

The poor man tripped over his own words. “The First mate gave me the message to relay to the Captain. I ran to deliver it, but he was at dinner and I just thought— there could be no harm in waiting until the conversation lulled. I didn’t want to interrupt, you see and— I did not know the contents of the message!”

Moreau looked as though a foul odor had passed under his nose while Herc made a mental note to give the porter a promotion. “Of course you didn’t know the contents, you vile worm! It is not for you to know! Captain— is this waste of life speaking the truth?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Herc hesitantly agreed. In an attempt to free the loyal crewman from any undo punishment from this cruel ruler, he changed the topic. “How may I assist you with the search, my Lord? I assume a search of the ship will begin, immediately. I’ve had the draftings of the ship laid there so your men can devise a search plan.” Herc pointed to the table with papers and refreshments for the High Lord. He turned to sit in one of the chairs at the table as the porter used the opportunity to melt away. One crisis averted for now, I just hope my luck will hold.

“Riccard, look over these and get to work,” Moreau growled while filling a glass with scotch. Herc assumed it must have been to his liking as the glass was not immediately hurrelled at his head. The taller man narrowed his eyes, assessing Herc with a piercing gaze. “This ship was the least likely for the— kidnapper— to be on. No one would willingly go to the South. I need someone to lead the search elsewhere once this proves unsuccessful. Since you are such a young Captain, you must be somewhat capable or intelligent. You will be leading the search, since I can’t spare my own guard for the task.”

Shock filled Herc’s features. “What an immense honor, your Majesty, but I must decline. My place is with my passengers, and I do not believe I would have the skills necessary to do such an essential task.”

“It is an honor,” Moreau barked out, “which you shall not refuse. And, should you fail, I will have you tracked and killed. Riccard, give him the details. I’m going back to my ship where it is comfortable.” With that, he was gone in a swish of coat tails and long strides.

Though Herc was standing tall in salute, his heart sank to his feet. As the Captain of a passenger vessel, no one would think twice of him taking a few weeks of “R and R,” even if it was to the Eastern Kingdom. But to abandon a search after a direct order from Moreau— his head would roll before he could ever draft a letter to Meeka with an explanation.

After the ship was searched and the crew sent to calm the now overly excited passengers, Herc prepared himself for his unwanted duties. All passengers were transferred to another airship and any retired military or minor crew members along with them. When the ship was fully prepared for a military expedition, Herc stood at the helm and addressed his largely inexperienced crew over the coms. “Crew members of the WKMS Dauntless: this is High Royal Captain Reginald Archibald Hercule Southerford the Third of the Southern Kingdom, Lord Duke, Fifth Class. Today, we have been changed with the safe return of Lord Grand Duke Dominique DuPont Francisco Moreau, His Royal Majesty of the Western Kingdom. An image of this man will be posted throughout the ship and readily available on your personal communications device. The High Lord in the West has deemed this man kidnapped and, therefore, in grave personal danger. It is our task to find this man, ensure his safety, and bring his kidnappers to justice. Two months leave shall be rewarded to the crew member who makes the discovery. We make landfall at dusk. May the Gods be with us.”

As a chorus of “May the Gods be with us,” rose around the ship, Herc leaned heavily on the ship’s control booth. His First Mate came to his side, speaking quietly but maintaining his poise. “Herc, I don’t think you needed to lie. The men would understand if—“

“Internal coms may still be monitored and we don’t know who is truly loyal to us and who will side with the West. But the image I gave is of them when they were at their most masculine. And, if my friend held his side, they won’t look remotely like the image. I know, Jack,” he added as he saw the look on his cousin’s face. “But we have to play along if I want to keep them safe. And by Gods, do I need to keep them safe.”

Jack nodded, a look in his eyes showing how desperately he wished to hug his cousin. “I will do my part, Sir.”

Herc grinned. “You always do.”

He was thankful that he was allowed to make his cousin his first mate. There was no one in the world he trusted more than Jack. He had only joined the sky fleet because Herc had been forced into it by his father and wouldn’t let him do so by himself. If anyone was going to help him deceive a dictatorship, it would be Jack.

Herc calculated that they would make it to Elilus City about one hour after Meeka and James. He hoped Meeka could stay safe. Luckily, James was well trained in many areas besides his duties. Elilus was known as the crime capital of Rouen for good reason. If anyone found out who they were, the bounty on Meeka would be enough to turn every head in the city.

When the ship docked, Herc paced as they waited for the paperwork to be finalized so they might disembark. Bureaucracy was the main totem of the Eastern Isle and could not be circumvented for any reason, even kidnapping.

“Herc, stop pacing or you will wear out the deck,” Jack snapped. “You’re making me nervous.”

Herc spun to face him. “Is it done? Can I go now?”

“You sound like a child that is waiting to play,” Jack toyed with him. “You know you cannot go running into the city just yet. You have eyes on you and we are not sure who is entirely trustworthy. If you run into the city now, it may give away their hideout.”

Herc huffed out his breath in exasperation. Jack was probably right, but he felt now was the best time to go. “If no one from the ship can leave it, I am not sure how I would give away their position. We are the ones bringing the news here so no one on the ground should be aware, yet.”

“We do not know that. It is very possible there are agents both on the ship and in the city. A message has most likely been disseminated through his Lordship’s channels. Caution is the best course until we know what we are working against.” They both leaned on the rail overlooking the city. Jack studied his cousins' dejected expression, making him frown as well.

“We have some good contacts, but do you think they are effective?” Herc picked at shirt cuff absentmindedly.

“We had better hope,” Jack said, grimly.

“I still think I should try…” Herc trailer off. He knew he shouldn’t go, but he wanted to see Meeka again. Has it really only been a few hours since we were parted?

“As good as that argument was, you have much to do at sun up. With the night half gone, I am not sure I can trust you to be back by then.” Jack clapped a hand to Herc’s shoulder as if he were about to physically restrain him from running away.

“What must I do in the morning,” Herc asked, despite not really caring.

“You will need to meet with the local constabulary to spread the information through the proper channels. Then you will have to inform the crew of their assignments. We will need to make it seem as though we are doing something, without letting our teams get too close to the truth.” Jack looked like this might be impossible to do. “This is— delicate. To say the least.”

“Don't you worry, Jack. I have a few ideas.”

The rest of the evening was spent detailing his plans, partially to iron out the wrinkles, but mostly to distract himself. After reciting the plan again, this time from memory, Herc looked blankly at the wall, playing with the small white knight. “It feels so wrong calling them ‘he.’ Even back then, before I really knew… But, I guess, somehow, I always knew.”

“You never did tell me about meeting them.”

Herc was silent for a moment, deciding that now was as good a time as any to relive the memories. “It was just after the South/Western War. Father was still only Viscount, so Uncle Samson had him do the Good Will Initiative. Meeka’s father was a Duke at the time and seemingly still loyal to High Lord Trudeau. So, visiting their great house was not as grand an affair, as it would be now. They were simply a high ranking family who we wished to parlay with.

“We arrived so late at night. The servants looked half dead as they lined up to greet us. I remember how Meeka’s father barked at the servants, calling them weak and disloyal for yawning. So, when Meeka yawned… They were so young, too. They didn’t know what was going on or even why he was yelling. He raised his hand to them and… it was just instinct. I got between them and took the blow. I nearly started another war. In the end, father condemned me in public and commended me in private. Told me that I would learn one day why what I did was right, but had to hide it like he had.”

Jack chuckled. “Bit of an eerie parallel, don’t you think?”

“Heh, just a bit, yes.”

“So, what’s with the chess piece?”

“Not too long afterward, I was roaming the halls of the great home and heard yelling and screaming. I peaked in a door to see Meeka cowering before their father. It was obvious they had been struck quite a few times. All I remember was their father saying something about discipline and throwing the chess set across the room, smashing one of the knights. I ran before he could see me and went to get my own chess set.”

“Let me guess; you snuck back and gave them your knight?”

Herc nodded. “It was so quick. I don’t even think I said hello or introduced myself. I just… handed it to them.” As Herc finished, he was nearly brought to tears by the memories. When he looked up, however, Jack was wearing a wide grin. “What in the world are you smiling about?”

Jack laughed once more. “You sappy bastard. You’ve been thinking about them ever since, haven’t you?”

The young Captain couldn’t help but grin back. “It’s not like that! Or at least… it wasn’t. But when I saw them on the deck… The sunset behind them, their coat in the wind, the way their cheekbones cut the air… I was lost to them forever.”

Jack cackled openly now. “You— are never—“ he breathed between gaffahs, “allowed— to make fun— of me and Andreia— again!”

They both fell into laughter, hardly noticing the sun rising outside the windows.