Chapter 1
Alwyn

Alwyn heard the click of the second tumbler a second before she heard approaching footsteps. Swearing under her breath, she removed her thin metal picks from the prison's lock and crossed to the bench against the wall.

The smooth wood felt comfortable, worn down by wear and weather. The tan stone she rested against still held warmth from the day's heat counteracting the night's chill. Above her, a small barred window let in the moonlight and the scent of fruit trees which dispersed any rank smell the prison might have. As far as jail cells went, this was one of the more pleasant ones Alwyn had visited.

When a frowning guard and Cyrus appeared at Alwyn's cell, she stayed in her lounging position as if she could fall asleep like that without a thought. The edge of Cyrus's mouth quirked upward, not at all fooled. Tugging off her boot, Alwyn tipped it upside down.

"Cyrus," she said, letting a waterfall of sand cascade out of her shoe. "I think it's time to leave the West Isles. The sand is getting to me."

Cyrus took his time eyeing the metal bars trapping Alwyn in the cell before meeting her gaze.

"Yes, I can see that the sand is what's irritating you."

As Alwyn pulled her boot back on, the guard opened the cell door and Alwyn strode out, nodding her head to the portly man.

"You're too kind," she said.

The guard frowned harder, lines cutting into his tan face. Cyrus grasped Alwyn's arm and steered her away.

"Let's not taunt the man," he whispered. "He was harder to bribe than most."

Alwyn lowered her voice aware of how the stone hallway carried sound. "How much did it take?"

Cyrus pressed his lips together and Alwyn felt a tinge of regret. But only a tinge, the situation couldn't have been helped.

"It's time to leave anyway," she said.

They passed through the gate to the jail and out into a paradise. Buildings made of beige, tan and white stone acted as a backdrop to the pearl white trees topped with vibrant leaves in shades of royal blue, maroon, and lime. On a ridge overlooking the city sat the palace with its gold domes and archways.

"It was a mistake to come here," Alwyn said, staring out on the city, but never looking to the palace.

Cyrus glanced from her to the palace and back, saying nothing and yet able to say more than anyone with his silence.

"I appreciate you not saying it," Alwyn said.

"It's enough for me that you know that I can say it. Since you planning on leaving, how do you propose we do that with no crew?"

A brusk breeze whipped around the buildings and brushed against Alwyn, sending a chill down her arms. She halted in her tracks. "All of them left?"

Cyrus's superior manner fell away, leaving behind a hard countenance. "What did you expect to happen when you challenged Tor to a fight inside a tavern crammed with the rest of the crew?"

"I wasn't going to stand for him mocking my authority one more time."

"Don't," her twin said, taking a step towards her, eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend like you haven't been looking to pick a fight with Tor for a long time."

Cyrus was wrong. It wasn't Tor Alwyn wanted to fight with, she would have been happy fighting anyone. Needed to fight with someone because this place was getting to her, worming its way under her skin until she feared she'd go mad. A mistake. That's what coming here had been. She'd known that all along, but still she'd persuaded Cyrus to sail to the West Isles. She wished he had never agreed. But she could not admit this to him. So she let him think Tor's comments were the reason.

"Tor challenged our command," Alwyn said, planting her feet, arms crossed.

Cyrus jabbed a finger at her. "No, he challenged your command. For good reason." Hurt pricked Alwyn's chest but she kept it from showing. "You reacted without thinking when you should have stayed level-headed in the face of his opposition."

"You wanted me to let him say what he did?"

"Yes! He would say it no matter what! But instead of waiting it out, you lost your control and challenged him in front of the entire crew so that when you lost-"

"I didn't lose, the guard broke up the fight before I could beat Tor."

Cyrus stared at her with simmering eyes. "When you were dragged off, Tor was given a platform in which to convince the rest of the crew that you weren't worth sailing with."

The scene played out in Alwyn's head as clear as if she'd seen it. Muscular Tor red-faced and waving his meaty hands while spewing about Alwyn's failure as a ship captain.

"Did you sit by and say nothing!"

"What did you think I could say!" Cyrus yelled. "In challenging Tor you proved you were reckless and hot-headed."

"I won't let men think I'm weak."

"Fighting everyone who says something against you is not strength!"

A window above them banged open making Alwyn and Cyrus start in surprise. A graybeard man poked his head out, sleep and annoyance written on his wrinkled face.

"Quiet! Some of us folks are sleeping!"

"Come down here you codger and fight me if you want quiet!" Alwyn shouted up at the man.

Mumbling under his breath about disrespect, the old man ducked back inside and closed the window. When Alwyn looked at Cyrus, he crossed his arms. She needed to get out of this city tonight or she would lose her mind or worse end up in jail again.

"We never should have come here," Cyrus said, all frustration gone from his voice.

"No, we shouldn't have."

Without another word, they headed towards the port, the soft tap tap tap of their boots echoing off the cobblestone streets. As they walked, Alwyn gazed up at the palace, unable to help it. It glowed in the night and Alwyn could almost imagine she heard the music of celebration emanating from it. She didn't know how coming here would have made any difference. What was done was done.

The Sea Siren waited for them at the docks. The dark ship bobbing gently in the water as if eager to hoist anchor and take to the ocean once more. Alwyn felt the same, but without a crew, they were tied to shore.

At the sound of footsteps drawing near, Alwyn and Cyrus spun around. A dagger flashed in Cyrus's hand and Alwyn curled her fists, wishing her own weapons hadn't been taken from her. The figure approaching halted, hands raised at the sight of the knife.

"I heard there was an opening on your ship."

Hands still raised, the figure walked out of the shadows, the light of the full moon revealing him. Looking about their age, the young man stood around Cyrus's height and wore the typical West Isles traits: light brown skin and reddish-blonde hair.

"Why do you want to join?" Alwyn asked.

Cyrus threw her a look that said she had no right to question volunteers when she's run off the previous crew. Despite knowing he had a point, Alwyn wanted the answer.

The man dropped his hands, taking her question as a good sign.

"I was in the Rockside tavern when you were taken off and heard that man ranting."

Alwyn settled her hands on her hips. "And his rantings convinced you to join the crew?"

"No, they convinced me there was an opening."

Cyrus sheathed his dagger. "If you heard what he said why join?"

This time Alwyn cast a look at Cyrus, but he held the high ground and ignored it. After all, the crew had never challenged his authority. The man glanced between the two of them, questioning.

"Who is the captain?" he asked.

"I am," they both said. They exchanged a look. "We are."

The man regarded both of them, seeing what he'd first missed. Despite Cyrus's hair being a golden blonde in comparison to Alwyn's darker shade, they shared the same Eldin blue eyes and similar facial features, though Alwyn's cheeks curved with softness while Cyrus's sharp cheekbones made his face leaner. The man nodded.

"I see. I want to join your crew because I heard a rumor of something taking place in the palace during the Lorian Prince's arrival celebration and I have a feeling its best to get out of the West Isles soon."

Ice ran through Alwyn's veins, freezing her in place. "What rumor?"

The question barely made it past her frost coated throat.

"That there might be an attack-"

Alwyn sprinted away before she heard more, her heart seizing inside her chest. It couldn't be true, it couldn't be true. Fear tore through her, spurring her to run faster.

"Alwyn!" Cyrus called out. "Where are you-"

"I need to know!"

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Ahoy there!

Okay, so technically I feel like the pirate lingo no longer works since we're in a different story but whatever.

Any who! This is the first chapter of the third book in the Loria Series: A Royal's Tale.

Now some of you might have read a different first chapter at the end of A Gypsy's Tale. The reason they aren't the same is because since posting A Pirate's Tale I've changed the plot line to A Royal's Tale. It's now going to be a book from four different POVs, starting with Alwyn's.

I'm guessing you know who our lovely Alwyn and Cyrus are the children of, don't you?

I'll give you a big hint, it's Isla and Raif.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't so much a hint as the answer. My bad, but I'm sure you already knew!

I've never written three books set in the same world and I'm excited about this once since it is also the first multi POV book I've ever written!

So vote, comment, follow because you won't want to miss when I post this book!