LOCATION: BLACK TRIDENT
Slumped over the railings, Andris was barely keeping it together. An iron-clad grip was on the support, as he felt the uneasy feeling simmer in the pits of his stomach. This isn’t good, he thought, suppressing that feeling. Before he knew it, the poor Hungarian was ralphing overboard, throwing up what food he had taken just the night before.
The high seas and the prince clearly did not get along well.
During the lockdown, Andris was unfortunate enough to go through at least three rounds of his panic attacks. So when the pirates roused and ushered them out in the dead of the night, he figured that the ‘worse’ was done. Turns out that it was only beginning. The next thing he knew, they were herded into a huge ship. It was only then that it clicked to him -- they would be sailing away.
Bassza.
And just as he suspected even before he could step foot on the monstrous vessel, the sea was not kind to him.
Another round of his food up and gone, as the prince lulled his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. He really was getting sick with all the motions of the ship.
❝ Please tell me we’ve arrived at our destination. I can’t take this. ❞ he whimpered, clearly in distress.
















