The night on the ship

Port Arra Scene 

Port Arra stretched wide across the coast, a restless hub where land met sea. Wooden piers reached far into the waves, tied with ropes as thick as arms, holding ships of all sizes. Sailors shouted as they hauled crates, merchants bargained loudly, and the smell of salt and fish clung to the air. The whole place was alive with noise, colors, and movement.

Down a narrow street near the edge of the port, two figures in long black robes slipped quietly between the crowd. Princess Ninsula kept close behind her guardian, her white hair hidden beneath her hood.

 Everywhere, Hagen soldiers prowled, checking faces, their eyes sharp and cruel.

When the soldiers finally passed, the guardian murmured in his low, steady voice:“Come. There’s a shop nearby—we’ll get you proper clothes and shoes.”

She nodded, following him. But once they entered the crowded market street, chaos swallowed her. The press of people pushed her aside—traders carrying baskets, sailors with heavy nets, children darting between legs. In the blink of an eye, she lost sight of him.

Her chest tightened. She spun left and right, her small frame bumping into strangers, her heart racing—until a firm hand suddenly caught hers. She froze, fear shooting through her—what if it was a soldier? But when she looked up, relief flooded her. It was him.

She smiled softly as he pulled her through the throng, his warm hand shielding her in the storm of people. Even after they stepped out into the quieter lane, he didn’t let go. Only when she tugged at his grip with a mischievous smile did he notice.

“I think the crowd is gone now…” she teased, tilting her head.
He released her hand at once, looking away, his face as unreadable as ever.“Let’s go inside, Master. Don’t cause trouble.”

Her cheeks puffed and stomp her one foot down on the ground in frustration. "Y-you! Don’t call me Master while scolding me, dummy!”

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The shop was small, filled with fabrics and old wooden shelves. Behind the counter stood a kind, middle-aged woman with soft eyes and hair streaked with gray—Aunt Ruby.
When the robed figures entered, Aunt Ruby looked cautious.

“Are you a traveling couple? Do you need clothes?”

At the sound of her voice, Ninsula’s chest tightened. She pulled back her hood, tears rushing to her eyes, without next thought she threw herself into the woman’s arms.

“Aunt Ruby… it’s me. Ninsula.”

The woman gasped, her hand trembling as she lifted the girl’s chin.

 “My child… you’re alive! I heard the kingdom had fallen. They said there was nothing left, that everyone was gone. i heard they even put fire on castle and its surroundings” Her eyes brimmed with grief as she held Ninsula tighter.

Through sniffles, Ninsula whispered, “If not for him…” she pointed at the guardian, standing silently by the door, “…I would have been gone too.”
Ruby cupped her cheeks. 

“Listen, child. You must leave this kingdom quickly. It’s no longer safe—soldiers search every street for you.”

Aunt ruby gives ninsula new clothes to wear ,the clothes are simple but she still looks so beautiful in them. After taking a bath the dirt finally removes from her body. 

That night, Ruby hid them in her home. At dawn, she led them through winding back paths toward the sea. “I know a man,” she whispered, “a sailor who owes me a great debt. He will help you board a ship in secret.”

---

The docks were crowded with ships, their tall masts rising like trees against the morning sky. Wide wooden planks connected pier to the deck, and soldiers stood at each one, checking every face. People lined up nervously, waiting for permission to board.
But Ruby’s friend—a scarred sailor with kind eyes—met them at a quiet corner of the port. He led them behind crates, past ropes and barrels, where the noise of guards did not reach. With a quick signal to another crewman, a narrow side-gangplank was lowered.

“Go,” he urged. “Climb quickly. Don’t look back.”

The guardian helped Ninsula onto the ship, his strong hand steadying her as she stumbled onto the deck. She is so anxious all the time and hiding behind guardian.They were hidden in the lower part of the vessel, near the storage area, where the scent of wood and sea mixed with faint traces of spice and fish. No comfortable rooms awaited them—only a small sheltered corner between crates where they could rest unseen.

As the ship’s sails unfurled and the ropes were cast free, the vessel slowly pulled away from the pier. The sound of waves deepened, the cries of gulls echoed, and Port Arra grew smaller and smaller behind them.

For the first time since that dreadful night, Princess Ninsula let out a shaky breath. They were leaving Lorian.
The men of the Hagen clan scoured every port and every road, but the sea had already swallowed the trail. No one knew what awaited the two fugitives now.

In the dim storage room of the ship, Princess Ninsula sat curled against the cold wooden planks, hugging her knees close to her chest. The scent of damp ropes and salted wood filled the air, broken only by the steady creak of the vessel as it rocked with the waves.
Her thoughts drifted, carried away by the rhythm of the sea. Memories of her childhood flooded back—days in the castle gardens, nights by her father’s side, never once leaving the empire she had called her whole world. She had often dreamed of the outside, yet never wished for freedom bought at such a price. Never like this.

Slowly, she climbed onto a stack of crates, straining to reach the small square window high above. Pressing her face to the glass, she gazed back at the darkening horizon. Lorian was fading, its lights swallowed by the distance, the shape of her kingdom shrinking smaller and smaller. Her heart squeezed tight, tears blurring her sight.

“Father…” Her voice trembled, breaking in the night. “Your spoiled daughter is leaving the kingdom…”

Behind her, the guardian worked quietly. He was arranging a space among the crates, moving sacks and laying cloth to make some sort of resting place.she wiped her tears and finally came down and leaned her tired body against the boxes, she glanced up at him.and smiles sweetly as always. 

Her small hand patted the spot beside her.

“Why don’t you sit too? I can’t sleep like this… I want to use your lap.”
He froze, unreadable as ever, then turned away, searching the crates until he found a rough pillow stuffed with straw. Without a word, he placed it beside her.

“Master, use this. Sleep. I will guard you.”

Her lips puffed in a pout, cheeks soft and round even in the lantern’s faint glow. With a little thud, she lay down anyway, mumbling, “You’re heartless… always calling me Master, but always doing only what you want.”

Before long, her breaths grew steady, her long white hair falling across her face like silk threads. The ship glided smoothly over the waves, carrying her deeper into the night.

The guardian sat nearby, his posture still, but his violet eyes glimmered faintly in the dark. His gaze shifted to her sleeping figure. Slowly, silently, he draped a shawl over her fragile shoulders. For a long moment, his hand hovered above her cheek, wanting to brush aside the strands of hair, to see her face more clearly. But he stopped himself, pulling back with a quiet sigh.

Outside, the deck of the ship was alive with another kind of life. Sailors sprawled among the ropes, some dozing, others drinking in the shadows of the masts. Around a battered table, eight men sat together, cups in hand, their voices rough and low.

One leaned forward, his tone hushed but hoarse . “Are you certain? Did you really sense her aura… here, on this very boat?”

The others exchanged glances, unease flickering in their eyes as the sea wind howled through the sails above.