Shipwreck

During his twentieth year young Preston Dustin had already lived much more than any heir to an important family could live.

As the first-born son of his lineage it had always been his task one day to take command of the House and make decisions.

He himself had always been a blessing to his relatives as he in fact presented a serious and equally intelligent character which distinguished him from his other siblings.

While Warren was much more naive, Meredith had run away from the mansion and the twins William and Dickon had both died, he alone had always been the "fittest" for that role and therefore the son his parents had always placed high expectations on.

Precisely for this reason Preston could be described as confident, stable, responsible, intelligent, but above all a perfect father who never made his daughter lack for anything.

He was in fact married at the age of twenty to a girl of his same age, Lady Martha Robins, who by force of fate had died eight years before.

Phoebe was now only fourteen but to Preston she was the dearest person, the most beautiful gift that his deceased wife had left him.

She had grown in beauty and intelligence and out of her father's great pride the young lady had developed her own seriousness and honesty but also the dreamy traits of her mother.

Phoebe had the same hair colour, bright and blond as her mother's and two large blue turquoise eyes.

She was sitting at that moment on the comfortable padded armchair, in the same room where Preston and prince Aleksei were entertaining at that moment and she stayed with her light and composed youthful body surrounded by a magnificent dress of delicate blue fabric with white laces.

The young lady slowly raised her gaze, met her father's small dark eyes, shared a slight smile moving the straight blond hair encased behind her head in a short ponytail.

Yes, every time the man observed her he always noticed in the appearance of the young Phoebe the appearance of Martha and this not only warmed his heart with joy but also made him very proud of the fact that she was his daughter.

-So Preston...- the voice of the prince slowly asked sitting on the other side of the woody and precious table on which a precise map of the surrounding territories had been placed.

The two had been trying at least worst to plan the attack of their troops for weeks now but at that point everything seemed too complicated to do.

On the other hand, independently it was only them: commanders of an army that put together at least twenty thousand soldiers, they knew it would be enough if they wanted to but the most decisive thing about that attack was the planning.

- As I said, Aleksei, in my opinion we should try to conquer the coasts of the South, this would be more effective, since in this way the British would have nowhere to escape...-.

Yes, if Preston Dustin was sure of one fact it was that he was the best in the field, the tactics had been taught to him since he was a child and the praise and high expectations that always rested on him had led to the creation of a slight arrogance.

After all, what else could Aleksei say? What else after everything the Dustins had been through and agreed to donate him.

Soon a child would be born from his sister Meredith, who would finally consolidate the Romanov-Dustin relationship once and for all.

-With all respect but I would consider the fact that Wales is contested between the Joneses and the Pembrokes, they would not simply let us pass and further south in the gulf we would risk being blocked by French ships- admitted the prince on the other side of the table.

If there was one thing that Aleksei was sure of it was that in the political field he was the most competent.

Since his childhood, the prince had fought with intelligence and cunning for the attentions of his own father and also noticed in the man's way of doing that the Earl was definitely too easy to manipulate, much more than he himself had ever believed.

-Could I propose something too, father?- asked the young Phoebe raising her turquoise and large eyes from the book she was reading.

The young lady had raised her pale face so much that it was illuminated by the warm sunlight.

All the details of the girl's sweet face were put into detail, the blush of her cheeks, her big blue eyes and the shining colour of the girl's blond hair wrapped in a short ponytail on the back of her head.

She had put down the book she was reading, she seemed quite interested in the dialogue and if he knew her well, she Preston knew that his daughter was a girl full of initiative, that she never paid attention to the opportunity of the moment.

-Phoebe, these things do not concern you...you are only fifteen years old, you should worry more about your education than about adult facts such as war- the father scolded her from his seat next to the table, hoping that finally the girl would calm down and go back to reading.

-Not to mention that you are a lady, my daughter, bureaucratic matters are complicated, you should take care of manners rather than climbing trees or jumping rivers like a little beast...-.

-Yes father...but I really think I have a good idea, please listen to it...-.

Aleksei stopped Preston before he again could stop the girl from admitting what she really wanted.

The image of that stubborn young lady so sure of herself had enchanted him at first and he honestly wanted to know what all this security and independence was hiding and what was hidden in her young mind.

Phoebe lifted her graceful body from the soft padded chair, took care to remove the pleats from her delicate dress, also removing traces of dust from it and then surely began to speak.

-What would it be if you attacked from the Strait instead of attacking from the South, there you would not be hindered by anyone...-.

-Interesting but on the other hand in this way we would end up crossing the army of Man and most likely being stopped by them...- Aleksei admitted communicating his problems as best as possible, adultly trying to communicate with a girl who was just in the middle of her adolescence.

-Exactly! But Man is a small island, could you not ally yourself with them? Besides, you have the same goal, my lord, don't you?- asked the girl swaying back and forth on her feet.

-Here is your mistake my dear, learn if you want to one day take command of the territories, never underestimate your opponents and never build alliances if neither of you has advantage from it...-.

At the words of prince Phoebe was struck, almost embarrassed, so much so that her usually pale cheeks had learned a vivid and shy red colour.

She wanted to help her father and Aleksei but all she seemed to have done was embarrass herself.

-Do not worry, you are still fifteen years old, you will have plenty of time to learn these details when you grow up and become older...- admitted the prince from the other side of the table trying to make the situation less stressful for everyone.

But Phoebe was almost fifteen and this also meant that soon, like all the other young ladies, it would be her duty to find a husband, get married and give birth to children.

On the other hand, that was not exactly the future that the young Dustin was waiting for, she did not like the idea of ​​getting married, not so soon and not with a stranger decided by her own father...she wanted to study, attend university and then, only later to search for the person she truly would love.

Being a girl had no advantage for her, especially not when she was the only daughter of her father and most likely would never have inherited power over those lands.

But now was not the time for her to give up, she knew she could change many things if only she had the chance and making it a better world for girls like her would be the goal for her future.

-My lords, my lady, allow us to inform you- the hasty voice of one of the official attendants of House Dustin rang with terror in the large room -we found a boy shipwrecked on the coast, about eleven years old, he has a brooch and noble clothes, he seems to be a Jones...-.

The child that the guard had brought there seemed not very bright, he was trembling, his noble clothes were too cold and wet by the icy water of the sea.

He had light brown hair which tended to dark blond, two large eyes of a fresh, yellowish brown colour with shades of wheat and honey but wet by the salinity of the sea and a rather reddened nose.

The boy looked around full of fear, he seemed to have lost consciousness and did not understand exactly why and how he was there.

He looked at himself, observed every person around him.

-What is your name, kid?-.

Preston watched the terror in the boy's eyes, he seemed to be traumatised by something that he himself had seen and could not describe.

-My name is Ezekiel..."Zick" Jones, it's strange to be here...I thought I was dead...I saw the darkness and then the light, the sun, the boat, then nothing more...then I felt the cold water, then a light again stronger and then I was here...-.

It seemed as if the boy did not speak clearly or as if he without certainty knew what had happened.

But the scene seemed even worse for that young lord when the question arises of reconstructing a path to bring him back to Wales where he really belonged.

But young Zick himself seemed to be terrified of the subject.

He had started to cry, to beg and the words that came out of his young mouth seemed almost hallucinating.

-I beg you don't take me home...I'm terrified, if my father and my cousin knew they would try to kill me again!-.

-Who is your cousin?-.

-Connor Jones-.