The Sovereign Rose

By E. N. Stuart

Set sail on a thrilling adventure in the 17th century with 'The Sovereign Rose,' a young adult fiction tale that brings together four unlikely companions. Alice, a runaway bride and escapee from the clutches of the notorious pirate Edward Low; Little John, a former British naval officer turned rogue; Captain Roberto Dohv, haunted by his family's history of whaling and a fateful encounter with the Queen of sharks; and the mysterious Mariann, a woman of many talents including gold collection and fishing. As this diverse crew embarks on their quest, hilariously funny mishaps and heart-wrenching pasts are revealed, weaving an epic legend of friendship, redemption, and survival on the high seas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E. N. Stuart
• Release date: Nov 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223197539

E. N. Stuart

E. N. Stuart, a literary virtuoso, embarked on her writing journey as a young author, unveiling her talent with the captivating debut, "Trouvaille." Evolving into a seasoned wordsmith, she now weaves enchanting tales of clean romantic fiction, transporting readers into realms where love blossoms amidst the purity of her narratives. Beyond the realm of fiction, E. N. Stuart delves into the profound as she pens insightful nonfiction works, sharing her experiences as a Doula and unraveling the intricacies of nutrition. With each turn of the page, she invites readers to join her on a thrilling odyssey through the heart and soul of her storytelling prowess.

Book preview

Chapter 1

GRAPPLING FOR BREATH, my body jerks against the ropes that bind me as I found myself drowning in a swirling haze. Hope and vision blurred in the midst of this oceanic abyss, where my body jerked around as if it had a mind of its own. I  felt like a bird lost at sea, desperate and disoriented. One moment I had been safe and warm but now things were cold and confusing.

As the light grew brighter, I was propelled into the bitter air, gasping for precious breaths. My lungs heaved, expelling frothy brine as if to mock me. The salt seemed to join in the laughter as it burned a thousand holes in my skin. while my eyes struggled to adjust to the reflective sunlit water that surrounded me. Where was I ? What happened to get me here?

Looking up, I found myself confronted by a chorus of men jeering and taunting. Their voices echoing through the air. As hot as coals under a fire, rage coursed through my veins, more than the fear and confusion. I knew these men but I did not fear them as I had when I was a child. Raising my head in defiance, I refused to be made a fool or a laughingstock for these men devoid of honor, except unto themselves. They made the word pirate seem more pathetic. Among them stood the man known as Edward Low, but to me, he was far more intimately known as Father.

His commanding voice resonated with precision and fear, dictating the actions of the men aboard his ship. Yet, his words fell on deaf ears as I wriggled against the ropes that bound me, feeling the rush of wind from the boat as they hoisted me out of the water. Determined, I resisted the urge to let my head hang, even though my neck ached from the effort. I refused to provide them the satisfaction of my defeat. They did not deserve the right to fly the Jolly Roger.

The men swarmed around me, tugging and grabbing, the ropes falling to the deck with a resounding thud. With so many hands everything was done in a rush. My body was carried effortlessly, carelessly thrown, until I found myself at Low’s feet. My hair was gathered in fistfuls, forcing me to maintain eye contact, unable to ignore him. Warm liquid traced its way off of my chin I could feel it swirl from my brow to my nose where it gathered even more and dripped from my lips. Scarlet splashes onto the ground before Low.

He sought information, something I could not give him. After I had escaped from him the first time, my life had been filled with unforgettable adventures and relationships stronger than I had ever experienced before. And my chest puffed out in the pride that I felt. But now, a sense of loss overwhelmed me like crashing waves, threatening to drown me. I had tasted life, something he had never allowed his pawns to experience. At least not without his grimy fingers stretched all over it.

I never imagined that I would find myself back on these decks, walking the familiar planks of this ship. Never did I envision kneeling before him, his words echoing around me, yet failing to penetrate my mind. All I could hear was the unmistakable presence of greed and betrayal.

Hoisted to my feet, I struggled against their grip as I was taken below deck. Low’s men all acted at once creating chaos as many hands grabbed at me. No chance opened for me to escape or even pull away, they were like a swarm of angry hornets. I watched as we shoved our way down and felt as I was shoved down. There, I was strapped to a table, and the putrid stench of death invaded my nostrils. My memory flew past my eyes and I tried to survey my surroundings, but all I saw were barrels, countless barrels. And fat ugly rats crawling all over with their beady red eyes watching everything. I n that moment, a buried memory from my childhood resurfaced, bringing with it a surge of recollection that hit so hard the air left my chest.

The rats used to crawl over my tiny body when I would sleep in the corner. Cold little paws touching my skin and tugging at my clothes. I don’t remember fearing them only being aware of them. They were my only friends as a child. Keeping me company with their paws reminding me that I wasn’t alone. My dry throat would try to copy their noises, squeaking and chuttering. I shiver thinking of this so uncomfortable with what used to be.

My brain snaps back to reality as the noise shifted to a far more eerie silence. Beside me stood my father, his grin stretching across his face. He continued speaking, but his words were lost amidst the thunderous pounding in my ears. Ifmy heart could have burst from my chest now was ever the time for it. I glanced around at the crowd that eagerly awaited something, as if they had witnessed this gruesome spectacle countless times before. But no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t find a memory that matched this moment. Frustrated, I wrestled against the ropes that bound my wrists and ankles, desperate to break free.

Then, I caught a glimpse—a glimmer of cold metal. it was a bone saw, slowly making its way around the table, inching closer to Low. Time seemed to slow down, and my breathing quickened. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead. The sight sent chills down my spine. Now I knew what was going to happen. I was about to join the barrels filled to the brim with rotting flesh and cuts of human.

At first, the cold touch of the saw felt surreal, but soon it transformed into a sensation as if my leg was being twisted off. I tried to scream, but the sound was caught in my constricted throat. The burning agony traveled through every fiber of my being as I desperately struggled against the tormentors. The pressure from the saw on my leg pushed me to the brink of madness, my mind teetering on the edge of collapse. Finally, unable to bear the excruciating pain any longer, I let out an agonized scream that pierced the air.

Suddenly, I bolted upright, my body drenched in a cold sweat. Shaking breaths caused my head to spin, and I fumbled blindly, desperately grasping for the sheets that enveloped me. Ripping them off my body, I stared down at my legs, half-expecting to find them mangled and severed. Yet, to my immense relief, both limbs remained intact, showing no signs of the torturous ordeal I believed I had just endured. it had felt so frighteningly real, a nightmare that had enveloped my very soul.

As I sat there, heart pounding and mind reeling, I couldn’t shake off the haunting echoes of that vivid dream. The cruel presence of Edward Low, my own father, taunting and torturing me for information. The rush of memories it brought back, both painful and childish, left me grappling with a profound sense of confusion and apprehension.

The darkness of my room enveloped me, its heavy embrace a stark contrast to the sounds that gradually rose from the world below. Sweat dripping down my back causing me to shiver. I strained my ears, picking up the faint melodies of an instrument playing—a steady beat that resonated through the night. it was the sound of songs sung in drunken revelry, the kind that accompanied the clinking of coins and the boisterous laughter mixed with occasional outbursts of anger. My stomach growled at the thought of the foods that must be being eaten down there.

With a swift motion, my feet slid off the bed and touched the cold wooden floor. Still feeling the lingering clamminess from my nightmare, I cautiously approached the window. Yearning to steal a glimpse of the outside world without attracting attention. My fingers grazed the delicate fabric that veiled the window, my touch gentle as I slowly shifted it aside, careful not to disturb the stillness.

Through the parting fabric, I peered outside, only to be greeted by the flickering light of the flame lampposts casting their glow upon the island’s streets. The sight that caught my attention was a man stumbling out of the nearby inn and tavern. His movements resembling those of a sailor braving rough storms on a ship. However, the sand beneath his feet did not sway or roll like the relentless waves of the sea.

I watched intently as the man meandered aimlessly, his steps faltering and causing him to collapse on his knees repeatedly. I don’t know why I watched him, nothing of my situations could change. Suddenly, his head jerked violently upward, as if startled by an unseen force. Could this man be my groom or was he just another bystander?

Low offered everyone he met the illusion of control. However sooner or later your eyes open to see the strings tied all over your body and when you look up its Low with the cross brace controlling us all.

His gaze met mine, and for a moment, curiosity held us rooted there. At first, he remained still, locked in an unbroken gaze, until gradually his expression shifted to one of drunken excitement. His hands flailed in the air, beckoning me to pay attention.

Without wasting another moment, I hastily retreated from the window, stumbling backward. Although I knew that the man would likely have no recollection of our encounter come morning, the unsettling feeling of no longer being alone weighed heavily on my mind. As I lay back down, haunted by memories of being confined below deck on Low’s ship, the question echoed in my thoughts: would I forever be a ghost in Low’s game, forever trapped in his manipulative grasp? Tomorrow, I would become his pawn once again, this time in the form of a forced marriage. The feeling of pride that had swirled in my chest tormented me. I had not felt it since I was a child with my mother. Why had it filled me so certainly in my dream? What was out there?

Sleep eluded me and when morning finally arrived, bathing my room in soft sunlight, I was filled with unwavering certainty. No matter what awaited me, I vowed never to be a pawn again. For the first time in a long while, my resolve hardened, casting aside the strings that had bound me for far too long.

The innkeeper entered the room, carrying a pristine white dress and a pair of boots. Her face exuded a gentle warmth, yet her hands displayed the marks of hardened labor. There was a scar running across her forehad underneath the crown of her brown hair. She placed the garments on the bed and drew open the curtains, allowing sunlight to flood the room, accompanied by a cool maritime breeze. Without uttering a single word, she gestured for me to rise and dress myself, her steady hands guiding me through each step.

She brushed my hair, allowing the salt-kissed waves to cascade down my shoulders. Not a sound came from either of us and it was a calming eerieness, one created by years of being the puppet not the master. As she fastened the corset, she struck a delicate balance between achieving the desired shape and ensuring my comfort. I could breath and move with ease. With every movement, she prepared me for the moment I dreaded most—the donning of the dress. I slipped into it, followed by the boots, and the innkeeper continued her silent ministrations, her presence akin to that of a mystical harbinger of fate.

Did she knowingly subject me to this fate, or was she oblivious to the depth of my despair? Our silent exchange betrayed no answers as we immersed ourselves in the somber ritual of preparation. She painted my lips a vibrant shade of red, using clay as her medium, and delicately tinted my cheeks to add a touch of color. The final stroke was the application of blue pigment to my eyelids, a nod to tradition. Weariness settled upon me, weary of being a captive bird, confined for the mere entertainment of others.

As if on cue, the innkeeper concluded her task, gracefully bowing out of the room, and collecting her belongings in one swift motion. I n an instant, she vanished, leaving behind only the remnants of her presence, stubbornly adorning me.

Aware that time was of the essence and not wishing to tempt fate, I hurried back to the window, stealing one last glance below. The inebriated man was no longer stumbling through the island streets. it was early, the world was still shrouded in quietude. Without a moment’s hesitation, I resolved to seize my freedom. Gathering my courage, I gripped the windowsill and propelled myself forward, embracing the exhilarating rush of liberation. As I soared through the air, a cry escaped my lips, a declaration of my newfound independence, SAOI RSE! At that moment, I felt the weight of chains breaking, and strings snapping away.

Chapter 2

THE IMPACT WITH THE ground sent shock waves through my body. it caused me to roll several times to ease the pain. Covered in a film of dust, I took a moment to catch my breath, but the urgency of my escape pushed me forward. My legs propelled me, pounding against the wooden boards that formed a path beneath my feet. The splintered wood creaked under the weight of my hurried steps, resonating with the urgency of my flight.

As I stumbled through the sand, it threatened to engulf me with each unsteady stride. The sun had ascended its throne in the sky, its rays beating down relentlessly. The searing heat bore down on me, the air thick with the scent of salt and sun-baked earth. Each breath I took was laced with the taste of dryness, the dust clinging to my painted lips.

The fragments of glass and stones were strewn across the sand. They glistened like ceasgs’ scales, their sharp edges catching the light in a mesmerizing yet treacherous display. The sweltering heat intensified, making me acutely aware of my Irish blood, which simmered with a fervor unmatched by any other.

Suddenly, the air carried an authoritative command. it was a chilling reminder that Low now knew of my disappearance. For a pawn who runs and is caught, death becomes an inevitable fate. My legs seared with exhaustion, but I forced them to carry me faster. I n the distance, the masts of ships pierced the skyline, a beacon of hope. I realized that my only chance at escape lay in the embrace of the open water. There was no hiding on this island with Low and his relentless crew on the prowl.

With renewed determination, I raced toward the docks. A multitude of vessels prepared to depart from the harbor. Ifonly I could secure a place aboard one of them, I might have a chance at freedom. Casting a fearful glance over my shoulder, I caught sight of one of Low’s henchmen, his eyes fixed firmly upon me. I knew that he would inevitably outpace me unless I reached the harbor swiftly.

Misfortune struck as my foot tangled in a root that had grown with malicious intent, causing me to stumble and roll uncontrollably down a hill. Terror gripped me as I hurtled through rocks, sand, and the occasional snarled twig. The ground dropped away abruptly, and I felt my body suspended in mid-air, hurtling toward the raging sea below. With a resounding thud, I landed and continued to tumble, surrendering to the sandy bluffs that seemed determined to claim me.

The descent felt endless. Each collision with the unforgiving earth added to the mosaic of bruises on my body. As I finally plunged into the water, the shock of the cold embrace momentarily stole my breath. The briny scent of the sea enveloped me, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and the earthy aroma of the coastline. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled my ears, a tumultuous symphony that mirrored the chaos of my escape.

I lay still for a moment, battling the aches and bruises that adorned my weary form. Struggling to my feet, the water clinging