The Wall of Rings

Kit sat on her bed inside her cabin aboard the K&K, her legs crossed, elbows resting in her knees, chin in her hands, as she stared at her wall of engagement rings. Trophies from each of the wealthy, arrogant bastards she had swindled out of the jewelry and everything in their vaults – sometimes even more than that.
 
32 rings – an empty slot on space 30, as the ring now hung around Killian’s neck – all from men who had deserved more than to be robbed blind. There was a darkness inside Kit that screamed they should have been killed, but she knew on those islands, the death of those men would harm the people they were trying to help more than simply robbing them blind would. So, she had stood against her patron’s initial wishes, agreeing to destroy them, but not kill them.
 
But the wall was more than a trophy wall. As the rings had added up, it also became a bitter reminder for Kit, one that told her she would likely spend most of her adult life alone. Her brother, of course, would always be in her life. Whether he would admit it or not though, he longed for more. A kind of companionship that was different than siblings. Kit was terrified of the day it would come, but also hoped it would come for him sooner rather than later. Killian deserved that kind of relationship – deserved to have someone who was his and who he was theirs, not simply being a part of them.
 
Kit, however, knew that wasn’t likely for her. It wasn’t just that she spent most of her time destroying the lives of wealthy men and playing with their hearts. It was that she simply didn’t seem to have it in her, the flair for romance, the batting of the eyes, the slowing down. Sure, there were the men who had found her, or vice versa, after an intense battle in the cage, but they weren’t looking at her as a woman that would be a part of their lives. She was a post battle reward, just as they were to her. A fix from the high emotions and high level of pain dealt in the ring.
 
It wasn’t just who she was, a Tiefling pirate with a rough personality and a penchant for killing people; it was the callous way she disregarded and played with feelings of others. This was something she had always known. No matter the good reason behind her actions, most people would be appalled to know the depths she had gone to win over hearts and then break them.
 
Kit would never admit it to anyone, but the truth was, it hurt her too. Not that she ever fell for any of the men. Knowing the kinds of villains they were made it impossible to even be mildly delighted by their charms or rare sweet moments. But the idea of it, of the being wooed, desired, treated like she was something worth doting over. Deep down inside, there was a part of her that wanted that.
 
Those engagement rings, all neatly hung on the board nailed to her wall, were more than just trophies. They were warnings, to never let herself slip, to never let herself be convinced it could be real, to never let down the walls. She knew, if she ever dropped that protection of herself, she would be the mark, waiting to be the fool.
 
She laid back on her bed, staring at the empty ceiling as the waves crashed and slapped lightly against the outside of the ship.
 
“Stop your pity party,” she scolded herself, thinking that just maybe, it was time to focus her energy on planning what she would do with herself once Killian found the person that would help him move on with his life. Because as it stood, she realized, she had no idea what that future would hold, and she didn’t want it spent moping around.
 
Pulling one more ring out of her pocket, she thumbed it for a while, then climbed off the bed and hung it in slot 33. There was space for three more.
 
“Maybe after that, it’s time to retire from that particular business,” she murmured, staring at the pink gem inlaid into a rose-gold band for just a moment longer.