1st 5 Pages March Workshop - Savage Rev 2

Name: Amelia Savage
Genre: Young Adult, fantasy romance
Title: Sea of Betrayal

Pitch

Sixteen-year-old Annabelle is a born leader, ready to replace her father as governor. However, ladies don’t get involved in politics, don’t fight, and certainly don’t wield guns. When her father is poisoned, she sets sail to enemy territory, braving storm season to retrieve the antidote from a murderous prince. But the prince finds her first, and he’s not what she expected.

Haunted by his violent childhood, Noah always hid his feelings for Anna. The governor—her father—fostered him after his parents’ death, so asking for his daughter’s hand is not the way to repay the favor. Rescuing her, however, is. Too bad she doesn’t want to be rescued.

To protect the ones she loves, Annabelle needs to forget her hopes and dreams. As she untangles her father’s secrets, she realizes the enemy may not be the one she thought. To stay safe, Noah must hide his true identity at all costs, even if it means betraying the ones who gave him a second chance.


Chapter One

Annabelle climbed out of the coach and welcomed the ocean air. The breeze whipped her long golden hair, and she tried to keep the strands from her face. Her leather boots sunk into the sand as she scanned the sea, hoping to catch sight of her father’s vessel. 

Nothing. She sighed.

“What a horrid smell!” Her mother made a great show of covering her dainty nose with her perfumed handkerchief. “I don’t understand how your father tolerates this. And now your brother…”

Shouts of merchants unloading their cargo muffled her mother’s complaints. Annabelle focused on the sound of the waves crashing against the wooden posts supporting the dock instead. Sweat and dampness provided the ideal environment to all the flies gathered around the stalls. The port was busy, like every Friday morning, and unlike her mother’s elegant clothing, Annabelle’s simple blouse and trousers blended in well with the crowd. If it weren’t for the guards and servants following them.

“Let’s get this over with. The wharves are no place for ladies,” her mother continued in her usual haughty tone.

Annabelle rolled her eyes. Her behavior never met her mother’s expectations, but lately things have gotten infinitely worse. She somehow got the crazy idea that finding her daughter a suitable husband would transform her into someone less wayward. These were her mother’s exact words. Complete nonsense.  

“You want me to be the perfect proper lady, but you bring me here with you. You can’t have both ways, Mother,” she snapped.

Annabelle shouldn’t have said this as she preferred being outside rather than home. Especially when her mother was all in her ‘reception prep mode’.

“You always can when you do it right.”

They headed to the shellfish merchant’s stall. Behind them, the servants panted as they carried heavy crates of scallops.

“Greetings Mrs. Heatley—”

“This is not what I ordered,” her mother pointed to the scallops.

Yikes. If her mother thought she could boss this shellback, she overestimated her negotiating skills.

The bulky man dropped his bloody knife on the wooden block. 

“You can fool my servants, but not me. I asked for shrimps and—”

“Shrimps?” The old fisherman burst into laughter. “What d’you want me to do? Turn back time?”

“I will not tolerate you mocking me.”

Annabelle pushed her mother aside and took a step closer to his stall. “Mr. Fell, we’re well aware shrimps season ended two months ago. But I also know you often sail near the waters of Carrasio without a proper permit to have a longer season than your competitors.” 

Beads of sweat formed across the fisherman’s forehead. “I’m sorry, Miss Heatley. I might’ve forgotten to renew it.” 

Sure. Ages ago.

“Let me offer you the scallops for your trouble and the shrimps will be deliver in time for Sunday’s banquet,” he continued.

They thanked him before they returned to the coach. The poor servants had to carry the crates of scallops back home.

“See? Both ways.” Annabelle’s mother tilted her head. “I’m glad I brought you here with me. You know how to talk to these people.”

These people were the reason she had food on the table and clothes on her back. Her mother shouldn’t misprize them because they worked to get those things. As First Lady, she should help them and try to make the community better instead.

“Thief!”

Annabelle turned to the sound. Women shrieked as a stocky hooded man bolted through the crowd. She looked at the guards who were busy helping the servants loading the crates onto the coach. They didn’t even stop to look. 

Sluggards. 

Robberies happened more often in Narrow Bay, Hastenia’s Capital, and if guards shied away from their job, she wouldn’t. She dropped her satchel and ran after him. 

“Annabelle!”     

Ignoring her mother’s scream, she kept running, dodging barrels, boxes, and people staring at her, their eyes wide. The robber was fast, but she was faster. She had weaved and dodged through the haphazard stalls a hundred times before chasing her brother. This was not so different.

The thief turned his head and pulled a stack of lobster cages behind him. Annabelle jumped to avoid them. Everyone jerked aside to let her pass.  

She got close enough to grab his jacket, making him stumble and fall. Struggling to stand, his eyes widened as if he had just realized who had chased him. She punched his snub nose before he had time to react. Her fist hurt, but she tried not to let it show.

“This doesn’t belong to you.” Annabelle yanked the pouch from his hands. 

Alerted by the commotion, two officers approached, pistols raised. Their green uniforms were pristine, probably because they had been doing nothing all day. A forced smile formed on Annabelle’s face, and she bowed before handing them the pouch. Then she headed back to her mother. 

Indignation blazed in her eyes. “Annabelle, you should have let the patrol apprehend him.” Her mother scowled as she examined Annabelle’s tan trousers, now covered in dirt.

“Mother, if I hadn’t helped, the thief would still be—” 

“That is not your problem.” 

Annabelle looked away, letting the mist cool her heated skin. She stared at the sea. A three-masted man-of-war appeared in the distance, and all her tension released at once. Her father would be back tonight.

“Don’t wait for me, I’ll stick around here a little while longer.”

Her mother shook her head. “I don’t like you being here alone.”

“I won’t be alone, I’ll be with Father.”

Annabelle hated to admit it, but being a daddy’s girl had some privileges.

Her mother turned to the sea and nodded. “Don’t stay too long. You must not be late for your dinner date with Arthur tonight, remember?”

As if she could ever forget. Her mother was a talking calendar.


Chapter Two

Noah could see the coast as he leaned against the guardrail. Familiar shapes in the distance turned into hills and houses. They would arrive soon. This recent promotion was tiring, but worth it. He never planned to get higher in ranks, but if Governor Heatley was pleased with his hard work, then Noah was too.

Patches of orange and red stood out among the dense green barrier on the horizon. It meant in a few weeks, they would put the Mystical in drydock. He would miss the gentle rocking of the ship and the sound of the waves splashing against the hull. But storm season awaited. He would rest then.

“Lieutenant Jensen.” Governor Heatley’s voice was calm but firm.

Noah straightened and saluted the country leader. “Sir?”

“In my office. Now.”

By the serious tone he used, it meant nothing good. And just when Noah thought times were getting easier. What a fool. He followed the governor to his quarters, acknowledging the other officers he passed. They seemed relieved they weren’t the ones being summoned. 

The old man entered his office, which also served as a private cabin, and headed to his massive greenheart desk. “Close the door.”

The light coming from the multiple stained glass windows added warmth to the austere furniture. Noah did as ordered and straightened even more, making his whole body on edge. Inhaling the deep scent of salt and wood, he felt at home. He shouldn’t.

To calm his nerves, he looked over the governor’s shoulder, examining the spines on the shelf against the cabin wall. Volumes he had read a dozen times.