Saying Goodye
Chapter One
Every man has a price which he will willingly accept,
even for that which he hopes never to sell.
She watched as the port came into view. Large enough, she never needed much. What she wanted most at this point was to get off of the damned boat she'd been on for who knows how long. But maybe she didn't want to get off because getting of would mean arriving, arriving would mean saying goodbye.
Saying goodbye is never an easy thing.
At the tender age of two, she had learned to walk independently. At the age of four she learned to jog independently. At the age of six she learned to sprint- independently. Independence. She learned and she understood. Now- now she must forget.
"We will be preparing to descend down to the boats soon, Lady Sharp," a sailor informed her.
She twisted around, her light brown hair swaying in the wind. She gave a polite smile and a faint nod. "Very well."
At the age of ten she had learned how to properly eat. At the young age of eleven she had learned how to walk in the tallest of heeled shoes. At the age of thirteen she had learned to waltz. At the age of fifteen she had learned how to act- more importantly- how to not act around certain people. And at the age of seventeen, she had not yet learned how to be a wife. That would soon come.
Sooner than I would have liked.
As her tiny boat made it's way to shore, she thought of the ship as paradise. Her stomach churned and she could swear her face was turning green. She felt every wave. The sailor that was rowing her to shore even gave her a funny look. But she politely smiled and turned away.
Her father was already in Port Royale. How long had he been there? She never really missed him. But then she received a letter; a letter that told her she was expected to arrive in Port Royale for a wedding. She had been excited. Maybe her brother finally found someone. Then she realized it was an invitation to her own wedding.
"Lady Sharp," a fine looking man in uniform said as he reached out his hand. She smiled faintly and put her gloved hand into his own. "My apologies, but we must make haste. You've arrived later than expected."
"It's quite alright," she smiled. "I'd rather be moving in a hurried manner than be sitting around."
He flashed a nice smile, although it did seem a little fake. He helped her off the tiny boat and escorted her to her carriage. He was a handsome man indeed. She decided she wouldn't mind if he happened to be her husband-to-be.
They reached the carriage and the man opened the door for her. He helped her inside. She turned back to him and smiled. He looked back confused.
Was she expecting something?
"Thank you for everything…"
"Commodore James Norrington. You can just call me James if you'd like. I feel that we'll be seeing more of each other," he said, as he closed the carriage door.
That must be him!
Why else would he allow her to call him by his first name? She beamed. Sure she would like to find love and choose her own husband, but she was in an arranged marriage. Beggars can't be choosers, as her father would always say.
"Now, Lady Sharp, allow me to take you to your betrothed."
"What?'
He swirled the liquid in the glass ad he looked out to sea. There was so much happening, so much going on. And of it was all his. Power is a funny thing.
It'll make the wisest of men go forget everything and the calmest of men monsters.
When he was just a little boy in school, he read the tales of pirates and the sea being untamable. He challenged that. His philosophy was that anything could be taken over, controlled, if you must, if you simply set your mind. And set his mind he did.
He crawled his way to the top. Went through any obstacle in his path. Cut down anyone trying to stop him. And now here he was. He was content as a lord but there was something else he wished to possess and he was looking out at it. That goal, however, was coming close.
"Lord Beckett-"
He swiftly turned around and glared at the butler, annoyed.
"What is it?" he asked. "Don't just stand there and waste my time."
"She has arrived," the butler responded, almost scared. "Your fiancé has arrived, my lord."
"Finally," Beckett whispered to himself. "You may leave."
The butler quickly disappeared and Cutler smirked to himself. He turned around to take one last view of the ocean and gulped down the drink.
"Father, it's so good to see you," she lied as she put herself into her father's embrace. She quickly stole a glance to the man standing next to her father.
That must be him.
"My dear Veronica," Lord Sharp bellowed. "How was your voyage? Good I presume?"
"It was fine," she said, as she stopped the forced embrace and backed away. "And where is Jakub?"
"He's busy with some things," her father explained.
"Too busy to greet his baby sister?" Veronica teased, raising an eyebrow. She looked over at the man once more, locking eyes with his own. His glare felt like it was pulling her down. She looked away.
"Ah, where have my manners gone?" Lord Sharp said. "This here is Lord Cutler Beckett, Veronica. He is your fiancé."
"Pleased to meet you, Lord Beckett," Veronica forced herself to spit out. She curtsied, eyes looking down to the ground.
"Believe me," Beckett smugly said, "the pleasure is all mine." He took her hand and bent down to give it a kiss.
When he let go, Veronica smiled politely.
"How do you like it in Port Royale so far, darling?" Beckett asked.
Veronica almost choked. Had he just called her darling? She looked around, almost as if looking for an answer. She noticed the officers standing behind her.
"Actually, I can already tell that this place has very nice people, Lord Beckett," Veronica drawled out, smiling. She casually started to walk over to the Commodore James Norrington. "For instance, I don't recall ever meeting such nice of a man as this fine commodore standing right here." She smiled and patted James on the back.
Beckett sent a glare while James nervously cleared his throat. Veronica smiled- feigning innocence. She knew she was pushing it.
"Veronica, I don't think such-" Lord Sharp started.
"But I'm not too sure yet," Veronica finished, walking back. "I'm sure there are some mean men walking around in this port."
"Let's not talk of such foolishness," Lord Sharp said, almost fake laughing. "I'm sure my daughter has had a tiresome trip. Veronica wouldn't you like to lie down; maybe eat something?"
"I would father," Veronica said. "Thank you." She turned to Beckett and curtsied once more. "It was very nice to meet you, Lord Beckett. Now if you shall excuse me-"
Veronica turned to leave, however, it was her father's voice that stopped you. "I think you are mistaken. You'll be leaving, Veronica."
"This isn't your home father?" she asked, embarrassed. "Forgive me. If I could only hide my blush-"
"This is my home," Lord Sharp informed. "However you won't be staying here."
"Very amusing," Veronica laughed. "I suppose the streets will be comfortable enough."
"Enough," Lord Beckett interrupted. "You shall be leaving with me and staying in my home."
Veronica looked to her father in astonishment. "Father! Won't this look foolish? Staying in my husband's home before we are even married! I haven't even known him long enough to-"
"Do not raise your voice against me," her father commanded harshly. "You will do as commanded. Now go."
Veronica looked from Beckett to her father, then back to Beckett, and she even turned around to look at the commodore. Surely this had to be a joke. She turned around only to see Beckett standing right in front of her, her father gone.
"Come," Beckett commanded as he placed a harsh hold on her upper arm. "There's no time to stick our fingers in our ears and stare in stupidity."
Veronica was about to open her mouth in protest when she checked herself.
I must try to remember my 'place' in this god-forsaken society.
Veronica allowed herself to be dragged out the doorway and into a carriage. She situated herself in the soft, cushioned seat and looked out the window. She felt the seat sink lower.
Oh goodness, this is uncomfortable.
She tilted her head to the side and snuck a glance at him. When he turned to look at her she looked away. The ride seemed incredibly long and when the carriage finally stopped she noticed it wasn't any where near a house. Instead she found herself looking at a large stone prison.
"Where are we, Lord Beckett?" she asked, almost poking her head out the window to get a better view. "I thought we were going to your estate."
"You thought?"
"Yes. I thought," she said, confused.
"Thinking. Something a woman shouldn't pride herself in doing," he grumbled. Veronica almost scoffed. "I need to run a fast errand, love," he explained boringly. "You can go ahead and take a look now. Don't think I'll allow you to go near this prison ever again."
Veronica watched as he exited the carriage. When he was for sure gone, she rolled her eyes and looked out the window. "What a pompous jerk."
She looked at how high the stone wall went and winced as the sun caught her eye. She imagined it would be impossible to escape the prison. Some people probably in there would never see freedom ever again.