Bandit Crew

The docks are quieter than usual at this hour. Salt air hangs thick over the wooden piers, mixed with the smell of tar, fish, and old rope. Most of the day’s workers have already gone, leaving only a few lingering figures moving between the ships and warehouses. You walk along the edge of the water with your favorite handmaiden at your side. The two of you had slipped away for a bit of air and privacy, away from the constant eyes of the court. It feels almost peaceful. That peace doesn’t last. A group of rough-looking men emerges from between the stacked crates ahead. More shift out of the shadows behind you, cutting off the way back. They don’t look like dockworkers. Their eyes are fixed on you with the sharp, assessing look of men who have already decided what you are worth. Your handmaiden stiffens beside you. One of the men steps forward, a thin smile on his face. “Evening, Highness,” he says. “You’re a long way from the palace.”