"I take back everything I said earlier," Delia remarked as she watched herself in the mirror. The black corset she was wearing was not so restrictive as she had thought, even though she wore two layers of clothing underneath. The corset was cut low in the middle allowing room for the ruffles of her white shirt that reached just below her chest. She wore a black coat which reminded her of a bolero jacket, with its collar embracing her neck and the frills of her shirt protruding from the sleeves.

Attached to the corset was a black ruffle cloth with an open front that seemingly turned into a dress behind her, accentuating her hips perfectly.

Bethany had taken the liberty to combine Delia's black trousers with a top coat of one of Elizabeth's dresses and she loved it.

Instead of her pumps, she had given her long boots that grew slightly wider over her knees.

Her overall outfit was even more than what Delia had expected when she told the girl she wanted to look authoritative and at the same time feminine.

"Ever thought of pursuing a profession in the fashion industry?" Delia asked the maid. "Because you have an exceptional fashion sense."

Bethany smiled proudly at the compliment. "Such professions are usually reserved for men."

"As is everything in this god forsaken place," said the raven haired woman as she rolled her eyes. "That needs to change."

"What do you mean?" The maid was visibly confused by that statement.

"Exactly what I said. While I'm here, I might as well start my own business. And you, my dear, will be the first I'll hire."

"A bold plan for a woman to make," a voice sounded from the door and the women turned around to see Commodore Norrington by the door frame, not having noticed his entry.

"Watch me, Commodore," Delia threw him a challenging look as her dark brown lips curled into a confident smirk. "I will make it happen."

And watch her, he did. Seeing her in the corset and with her hair tied up in curls made his breath hitch for a brief moment. Dark eyeshadow brought her almond shaped eyes into a slimmer shape, making them look alluring and imposing at the same time.

He cleared his voice as he banned any further thoughts, quickly gaining his composure again.

It was as if his demeanor had never changed, his expression grim as always, but the look he had given Delia for that brief second did not slip past her notice.

"Governor Swann will see you now," he announced, "he wishes to discuss certain matters with you before the merchant arrives."

"Of course."

After thanking Bethany for the makeover, she followed him outside the room.

"You failed to mention earlier that you were attacked," Norrington spoke as they walked, his gaze fixed ahead and the suspicion in his tone imminent. "How convenient it must be for you that Governor Swann has issued for you to remain here instead of being taken back to your cell."

"What are you implying, Commodore?" Delia's eyes narrowed defensively.

"I think you already know."

He halted when he realised she had stopped following him and turned around to find her staring him down furiously. "Are you saying you don't believe me?"

"Precisely," came his strict answer and she breathed in exasperation, trying to contain her anger.

"That seems to be a bit far-fetched, doesn't it, Commodore?"

"We will see at the trial," he responded dismissively and continued walking.

"Don't you dare walk away now," she growled, picking up her pace and grabbing his arm, forcing him to turn back to her. "All this happened because of you! You put me in that cell in the first place and it's because of you that I was injured!"

Suddenly, she found herself pinned against the wall, with Norrington's sharp glare dangerously boring into hers. "Watch your tone. You may be a woman, but I will not tolerate such insolence from you."

"You know what I think?" The woman drawled threateningly. "You can't admit to yourself that you have wrongfully imprisoned me. You're angry at yourself that you have let it come this far."

She felt his warm breath as he exhaled through his nose, his lips pursed in contained fury as he slowly backed down. She did not allow that for long, however, as she grabbed him by his collar, pulling him back towards her, their faces again mere inches apart from each other.

"One more thing," she spoke lowly, her gaze never leaving his, "once I have been pronounced innocent, because I sure as hell am, I will come for you and drown you in your own guilt, Commodore."

With that, she pushed him away from herself and took off.