Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
I walked down the stairs, curious despite myself at who this visitor would be so early in the morning. Then I reminded myself that it was nearly noon, and Queen Elizabeth had once again slept late. I stood on the landing and looked down, surprised at who was in the atrium of my father's mansion.
He raised a hand to touch one of the candles fixtures on the wall. One of the candles snapped off from the arm that held it with a loud clang. I suppressed a smile and made my way quietly down the stairs. I was very good at being quiet. It came along with being ignored.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Turner," I said, and he spun around and hid the broken piece of the fixture behind his back. I raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry about the candle. Here, give it to me," I said. He sheepishly gave handed it to me. I walked to the door and stepped out, dropping it behind the shrubs that decorated the front of the mansion. "There! No harm done, right Will?" I asked, smiling. He smiled back, and I tried to ignore how seeing his lips lift slightly made my heart beat quicken.
Will and I had been friends since we were twelve, when Elizabeth and I had spotted him on a piece of driftwood on the crossing from England. Back then, Elizabeth and I shared a bit more in common, like our fascination with pirates and our fondness of the strange young boy who had found his way onto our ship. I don't know if we still shared those mutual interests. Elizabeth had taken to fantasizing about a roguish pirate who would sweep her off her tiny little feet. I had opted to study all I could about pirates, and maybe even become one. Or at least to learn how to fight as one. And so while Elizabeth stayed in the house all these years as to not burn her ivory skin, I snuck out each day disguised as a maid of some sort and made my way to the Blacksmith Brown's shop and Will Turner taught me how to fight. More often than not, Mr. Brown was passed out drunk, and Will had to teach himself the art of forging weapons.
I might as well have been invisible, given how my father noticed I was gone.
However, while I was around, and when he did by the slim chance notice me, he would notice everything about me, and so when I came home with calluses on my palms from the pommel of the practice blade, he noticed and I had to be a good deal more careful from then on. Mary, who was my best (and only) friend besides Will, knew what I was up to, but she swore not to tell.
Will was not supposed to make my heart flutter or my face flush or my breath come in shallow gasps, that was something Elizabeth would succumb to. I wasn't supposed to want to touch his dark curly hair and smooth it back from where it rebelliously stuck out of his ponytail. His lips weren't supposed to distract me when he spoke to me; I wasn't supposed to lose my train of thought in the middle of a sentence. But recently our lessons had been harder and harder to last through, the way he would get all sweaty and his shirt would be half undone…I shook my head and pushed those thoughts away. I didn't care if they were not proper, but I did care that they might hurt me. Especially as soon as Will saw Elizabeth today.
"What brings you to my humble home, Mr. Turner?" I asked, teasing him. Although Elizabeth was generally more skilled than I in the area of courting, I knew how to send a coquettish glance or two in Will's direction. I might have danced around naked in front of him and he would hardly have noticed, however. His every thought - the ones not reserved for how to make lighter-weight, more deadly weapons, anyway - was reserved for my sister. In the four years since I'd taken an active interest in Will Turner, I had grow reluctantly accustomed to this fact. Indeed, if he had been more well-born, he and Elizabeth would have been married already, and expecting a child.
Will chuckled, "Your father had placed an order for a sword to be fashioned for the new Commodore," he said. "How fascinating," I said dryly. He frowned, a bit offended. I should have known that he would take offence when I wasn't thrilled about this new sword.
"Oh, the sword is interesting enough," I said hastily, "but I have heard far too much of our Commodore Norrington, and even his name bores me to tears, although Elizabeth might protest," I said. Will laughed, and reached to brush a lock of hair from my face, but dropped his hand suddenly and his eyes ticked up to the stairs. My stupid father and idiot sister must have arrived to ruin the moment.
"Ah, Mr. Turner, it is good to see you again," my father said a bit sharply, and I took that as my cue to step away from Will. Damn. No, not damn, I reminded myself…I sighed a bit and when to stand by the most charming creature ever to walk the earth…the statue that was beside my sister.
"Good day, sir." Will said politely. I almost smiled, thinking of how handsome he was when he was polite. Well, I thought he was handsome in nearly everything he did. I quickly stomped that thought and Elizabeth looked at me smugly. I amused myself by thinking of tearing her eyes out. She looked a bit startled when I smiled back. Perhaps I looked a bit mad…
"I have your order," Will said, opening the case that he brought with him and handed a very handsome sword to my father. "The blade is folded steel, that's gold filigree inlaid into the handle. If I may?" he took the sword gently from my father, and "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade," he said, quickly demonstrating by twirling it around a bit. My breath caught, if he was clumsy with all else, he was quite graceful with a sword, as if it was an extension of his body. Elizabeth clucked her tongue at me, and annoyingly superior look in her eyes. I ignored her: I had scratched her eyes out earlier, remember?
"Impressive, very impressive. Ah, now, Commodore Norrington is going to be very pleased with this. Do pass my compliments on to your Master," my father said. He was so irritatingly thick. I snorted and was once again thoroughly ignored by everyone, except Will who winked at me over my father's shoulder. Daring…had my father noticed (which he didn't, the stupid old bloke) he would have had Will's eye for that.
"I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated," Will said. I smiled. Elizabeth cleared her throat daintily. Perhaps I should have torn her throat out instead. "Ah, yes, Elizabeth, you look absolutely stunning, does she not?" my father said. Will said nothing, only stared. I suddenly found the ceiling ever so mesmerizing. As much as I was used to Will's constant fawning over my sister, it was no less antagonizing to have to bear witness to it. I chewed the inside of my cheek impatiently; even the Commodore's promotion ceremony would be preferable to having to stand here watching Will's eyes roll out of his head and Elizabeth preening in all her perfect glory.
"Will! It's so good to see you! I had a dream about you last night!" Elizabeth gushed in all her prettiness. "About me?" Will asked hopefully. Oh yes, her throat was definitely what I should have torn out.
"Elizabeth, is that entirely proper for you to…" my father began, as I clucked my tongue. If I had ever dared to be so forward with a man, Father surely would have taken a strap to me. All my sister got was a meek little attempt at a reproach.
"About the day we met, do you remember?" she said, ignoring my father. I couldn't help it, I looked right at Will. He was as avid as a dog staring at a piece of meat. Perhaps I should have torn out his eyes as well. Elizabeth would have to go, she was making me volatile.
"How could I forget, Miss Swann?" Will asked. Aha! He calls her 'Miss Swann,' and not Elizabeth! A shilling to me, I win! "Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" my evil step-adopted-not-related -to-me twin sister said warmly. The coquettish gleam in her eye was twenty-fold whatever my attempts at flirtation had been. Had Will been less of a gentleman - indeed, more like the men Elizabeth and I were accustomed to, who were gentlemen in name and name only - he would have taken the bait. Will looked cautiously at my father before answering.
"At least once more, Miss Swann, as always," he said. He called her Miss Swann with more reverence than he called me Christina. Suddenly I was desperate for him to call me Miss Swann.
"There, see, at least the boy has a sense of propriety. Now, we really must be going," my father said shortly. Elizabeth bristled, and I could tell by the hurt look in Will's eyes that she'd fixed him with an icy stare. "Good day, Mr. Turner," she said coldly. She was a moody little wretch, now wasn't she? She and my father hurried out. I followed slowly. "Come along," my father said as he seemed to waddle out the door.
"It's a beautiful sword," I said to him gently, turning and following my adopted family. If I wasn't adopted, then I should have to disown myself from these intolerable people. Or at least from my horrid sister.
I wasn't lucky enough to be out of earshot before I heard Will mutter, "Good day…Elizabeth,"