Sky spent a lot of time at the tavern. She knew most of the regular patrons. The place was rarely visited by those looking to drink away sorrows so most of them were up for a good time when she was. Alongside this more intimate knowledge of the regulars came the flip side: she knew when someone wasn't a regular, when they were new to the bar. With her head buried in her arms she couldn't see who it was that was speaking, but the voice didn't sound like anyone she knew. There was a familiar pitch to it, but she'd heard a lot of voices in passing in her life.

With a silent groan she began to lift her head. Quiet protest started to escape her lips. "It's much appreciated, but I'm not in the mood for flirting tonight. Any other night and that might work--" her words were stopped dead as recognition flashed in her eyes. It took her a moment for the recognition to even click in her alcohol-addled mind, but it eventually made its way through the fog and she identified him for who he was. It took her another moment to believe that he was actually there and not just a figment of her imagination, someone the alcohol put in front of her.

"M-my lord!" she exclaimed, immediately straightening up her posture as best as she could. As she did her elbow knocked the empty mug over, and she fumbled to try and catch it while striking a salute. The whole debacle, of course, failed miserably and ended up with Sky landing on the floor. She scrambled to her feet, now striking a standing salute while her cheeks lit up a bright red. "I'm sorry, my lord, I didn't mean to be rude to you!"

Oh boy, she had just made a royal fool of herself . . . in front of royalty. Sky was used to having fun, and the idea of making a fool of yourself for a few good laughs wasn't foreign to her, but in front of the king when she was trying to salute him? Her cheeks were flushed and she hoped he assumed it was the alcohol and now her embarrassment. Though, then again, who would mistake the two after the show she had just put on for him. She wasn't going to live this one down, she just knew it.

But the king laughed heartily and responded casually. She blinked a few times, surprised by his informal manner. Sky's wit was sharp enough that she knew better than to try to keep up formal facade, she'd just go and make a bigger fool of herself. It was better this way anyway, she'd grown up a pirate, formal didn't come easy. "It helps take the edge off the bitter feelings," she murmured in response. She knew only fools drank away their sorrows, but for her it was more of a comfort blank. It was a familiar thing, so there was some comfort there. Plus it was a huge sleep aid; you didn't tend to have trouble passing out once you drank enough.

That all quickly became the furthest thing from her mind. She was about to pipe up, "Just Sky is fi--" when he dropped the implication. She tried her best to maintain a straight face, to hide her surprise at the blatant hint he had dropped, but it had caught her so off guard that it was impossible to disguise the darkening of her expression, the turn of her head to avoid eye contact and focus back on her drink. "Imagine that . . ." she muttered hotly, trying to keep a cool head about the situation. Not that it mattered. The king had just called her out as a pirate. She was screwed.

Did he know? Did he want her to know he knew? Or had it just been a completely random coincidence? Sky liked to think she didn't believe in coincidences but the fact was they still happened, whether she believed or not. She was on edge, her heart thumping in her ears, while the king seemed perfectly nonchalant about the entire manner. That wasn't how one addressed a pirate, was it? She couldn't come out and ask him if he knew, that would be giving it away, but his unreadable expression and words were driving her mad!

She defaulted to her typical reaction when things were so stubborn and confusing: she grabbed the nearest mug, which happened to be the drink he had bought for her, and took a good long gulp of the burning fluids. She eyed him out of the corner of her eyes and over the rim of the mug. The drink suddenly wasn't going down as easy as it normally did, and the buzz she'd been feeling had all but evaporated as adrenaline surged through her system to counteract it. She forced it down all the same, lowering the mug that was now almost half drained and wiping her mouth in a very unladylike fashion.

He was acting so casual, yet her entire body was screaming mixed messages at her. A part of her that had never left after she laid down her cutlass said to run, that he knew who she was and he was an authority figure. It told her there was only danger. The newest part of her, the dragonrider, told her she should be more respectful, should be standing at attention. And yet another part, perhaps the more inebriated side of her, was telling her to drink more until the confusion went away. She was used to things being simple, they were always pretty straightforward on the ocean, and even in training.

"Memories of the past, things a king doesn't need to concern himself with," she replied, trying to dodge around the question. What was she supposed to say? Memories of when I used to steal from my current brothers-in-arms and from you yourself in order to make a quick buck, that may have incidentally led to the death of dozens of baby dragons! Yeah, that'd go over well. "It would be unbecoming of a dragonrider to mope on the king's shoulder, anyway."

What was a girl to do? The king had her cornered, practically had her wriggling under his boot at this point. The only thing she knew to do was to continue to play it off, but his persistence made that nearly impossible. As a pirate she wanted to just shrug it all off, let the king go. As a dragonrider, however, his very presence demanded she show him respect, and he was insisting on hearing her woes. To simply pass him off would be utmost disrespect, and she had to consider her career as well.

What career, though? If he knew about her time as a pirate she would probably be hanged the very next day anyway! She told herself she was overreacting, but that didn't stop it from worrying her. The very thought of the noose sent a cold shiver down her spine, which she drank off as quickly as possible. If she delayed too much it would be just as suspicious. She just needed to trust in her tongue, as quick and deadly as it was, to help her work her way out of this situation. Adrenaline countered alcohol as she shrugged her shoulders, preparing to speak.

She took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "If you insist, sire, I'll share my piece, though I need not a shoulder or an ear as I already have two of each," she said lightly. Make light of the situation, pull away the gravity to help calm her nerves and throw off his suspicions. If they were suspicions. They could just as easily be certainties. "A few years before I joined the dragonriders," she began, another cold tingle travelling through her body. She was dangerously close to a line she never thought she'd cross, and tried even now to avoid: the truth. "I was involved in some less than favorable business overseas." Technically not a lie, as she did her trading across the ocean. "It meant stepping on a lot of toes and I never had the stomach for crushing feet, so the deeds still haunt me from time to time." Be as vague as possible without sounding so, that was key.

And try not to wet yourself in panic while the king sat right there. That tended to be a dead giveaway.

This situation was enough to kill any kind of buzz Sky might've been working on, not that it hadn't been destroyed the instant the king himself had approached her. It was too much, given that all she had wanted to do that night was drink herself into a stupor so she could get an easy night sleep. It seemed that wasn't going to happen at all for her. Her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding in her ears, but she struggled and maintained her cool for the time being. At least, externally.

Then the king was a bit more up front with her.

Her body froze. Shit. Shit shit shit shit! Shit! was about the only thought she could muster as he spoke up, implying that he did, in fact, know about her prior business ventures. She was dead. It was only a matter of time before she found a noose. Or was the king more hands on? He invited her outside. Was he just going to do her in out there? Beheading seemed a bit formal for a pirate. Sky was barely hearing his words at that point, faced with her ultimate destiny, with her approaching death. He ordered her outside, then left.

She stared at her mug, and for a moment considered slipping out through the back. Make a run for it. If she was lucky her old crew or one of the other smugglers were anchored in the cove across the island, she could stow away and just live elsewhere. But she couldn't do that. It would be abandoning Lyroth, who wouldn't survive elsewhere. But then, if she were to die, wouldn't it be the same? He was a stubborn dragon, but he understood her situation, would he want her to live or die? Either way he was alone, it seemed. Yet he was elsewhere at that moment, it seemed, probably hunting somewhere. She couldn't sense him nearby.

I wish I could at least say good-bye, she thought as she grabbed her mug and downed its contents as quick as she could before standing. No, she wouldn't run. She had probably sent dozens of baby dragons to their untimely demise. If she could not redeem herself by protecting the rest then her redemption would come in blood for blood, it seemed. Or perhaps she was already damned to hell.

Either way she marched forward, her head high, through the door. The king was outside, waiting, and she stood at attention. "Sire, I accept the circumstances of my actions and hereby forfeit my life to your judgment," she announced cordially, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

She had been so confident that he had known that she had presented herself before him without even thinking. His response startled her, and stormy grey eyes widened as she realized she might have bumbled horribly. Did he really not know? He had alluded so much toward it that she had been absolutely certain! What else would the king want from her, anyway? She was a dragonrider trainee, there were better riders than her. She might've been one of the best among the trainees, but that wouldn't mean anything to the king, would it? She gulped and pursed her lips, almost afraid to say anything else at this point. Perhaps she was still buzzed, though she felt far from it at that point.

He started walking and Sky followed. She was too stunned to think about where he might take her, about running in another direction and just hoping the whole thing went away. She was too stunned by her own fumble to even think beyond following his orders. Fortunately it was late enough that he wouldn't see that the color drained from her already pale skin--she'd once had a fair tan from the seas, but in the two years since her landfall she'd somehow managed to lose it and return to the porcelain complexion she'd been born with. It was even whiter now that she was so startled, not even the alcohol able to bring color to her cheeks.

As she walked she shook her head the slightest amount. "If I could, sire, I'd rather not say anything else lest I bite off my own tongue at this point," she murmured, completely flustered."If I might be bold as to insist you explain what this is about before I finish digging my own grave . . ." She'd rather find out what he knew before letting something slip. Her confidence was waning as he had sent her reeling twice now in the same evening. Her heart was beating rapidly and she was thankful Lyroth was beyond the range of their bond. If he could sense her panic and fear now he'd probably attack the king.