Author's note: well, this is katrina's story, and no it's not based off of Roz or anything (at least, I hope you'd tell me if you were betrothed!) lol well here it is!
Kris
While the black pearl was busy with the excitement Elizabeth had caused, Katrina was busy telling her story.
"He was a horrible man, Luke." She said thoughtfully, fidgeting slightly with the sleeve of her dress. "I knew that as soon as I met him. He didn't have an ounce of respect for anyone; he always expected everyone to do everything for him. I suppose it was this mentality that got him the respected position of colonel at such a young age.
"I was around 13 when I met him. All my family; my parents, my brothers, my sister, they all had spoke so highly of him that I had found myself drawn to him before I even met him. He had achieved so much in his life that he seemed a god of sorts, especially in the humble place of New Orleans. Thus, my parents were overjoyed to have received the honour of dining with him.
"My excitement had reached its peak when we arrived at his manor, which seemed more like a castle to me at such a young age. The whole place was swarming with servants, although at the time I thought nothing of it, I suppose it was a little unusual for an army man to be in possession of such a place. I remember being lead inside by a handsome black man; also I remember realising that the servants must have been trained not to speak to anyone, as not one person would answer to any of my greetings or questions. I would have thought that my parents would think this highly unusual, as we've always treated our servants with respect and kindness. But, as mentioned before, I think my parents were too infatuated with the man to think anything bad of him.
"We were lead to a fantastic dining hall, complete with crystal chandeliers and golden furnishings. For a moment, I was too preoccupied by my glorious surroundings to notice the man sitting at the gigantic oak table.
"When it did occur to me that we were not alone in the hall, I found myself slightly taken aback by his grandeur. He stood up and introduced himself as Luke Carpenter, not colonel or commander but simply Luke, a towering man of six foot five with piercing green eyes and a deviously charming grin. He looked to be partly Spanish, with beautifully tanned skin, his beard clipped so close and smoothly that it seemed to be painted on, and paired with a mere line of a moustache and hair that curled naturally around his ears, he struck me as a man who appeared to be charming, likeable and handsome. But there was just something about him that unnerved me; perhaps it was his eyes, that to me seemed cold and barren despite the wide smile adorning his face. He shook both of my brother's hands, first Jacques then Armand, not to mention my father's, and after politely kissing the hands of my mother and sister Jezebel, he surprised me by kissing my own.
"The dinner itself was unmemorable, with servants bringing dish after dish and boring official talk between the men of my family and Luke. My mother and sister laughed a little too loudly at every witty comment to grace Luke's lips; for the most part of the meal I stayed silent. My sister showered the man with compliments and praise, while I barely looked at him. With each passing moment I found my excitement fading, and my dislike for Luke slowly started to grow. Every once and a while he would look away from my family and stare at me out of the corner of his eye; I would ignore it and continue picking at my food, replying politely to all his questions with an appropriate 'yes', 'of course' or 'thank you'. I was relieved beyond words when it was finally time to leave.
"But my relief at finally leaving the house did not seem to phase Luke, as right when my family was preparing to leave, he caught me alone and brought my hand to his mouth once again. 'My dearest Katrina', I remember him saying. Those words filled me with a dread that didn't leave me for days, and for once the use of my real name hadn't annoyed me but, in fact, frightened me. My family noticed nothing.
"Barely a month later, my family was yet again invited to dine with Mr Carpenter. These occasions became more or less a regular thing until my parents decided to send me off to a French finishing school. It was there that I learnt my true passion; to play the violin. But I was there for little more than a year when my mother sent for me to come back home, claiming that she couldn't bear to have 'her baby' so far away from her. So, obediently, when one of my fathers' many ships appeared to take me back, I went without a fuss.
"My family was overjoyed to see me, claiming that I had changed so much since the year before. I was constantly being showered with unwanted comments about my beauty, how my dark hair contrasted against my fair skin, how well I had filled out, how unusual my eyes were. I had noticed that the closeness I had shared with my older brothers had begun to fade, as Jacques was spending more and more time away from home and my beloved Armand, who held barely 3 years or age above me, generally acted with discomfort around me. The only thing that hadn't changed was my sister Jezebel, nearly five years older than me and multitudes more beautiful, whom had always treated me with kindness. If anything, she seemed to pay more attention to me, marvelling at how I'd grown and my manners, and especially my fluent French. So, although I had lost a companion in Armand, I had gained one in my sister. For the next month or so I lived happily, surrounded with familiarity and loved ones. I had, for the most part, forgotten about Luke.
"Until, that is, he invited us to dine with him once again. Except this time, instead of inviting the family as was usual, only Jacques and myself were expected to attend.
"This created a small uproar throughout the household. It was apparent that Jacques had been invited due to the fact that Luke wished to discuss some matter of business with him, and my parents and Armand were rather passive about the whole affair, but Jezebel had a rather hard time containing her surprise that I had been invited and not her. Everyone had thought that, if Luke had any intention of courting a member of the DuValle family, it would have been her. All things considered, I was different one of the family, and always had been; my brothers and sister were all fair and blonde, with deep brown eyes and wonderful social skills. I had inherited my father's dark hair, and while I sported my mother's fair skin, it was unapparent as to where my eye color came from. All my life I was treated like the baby of the family, and although I was fourteen years old, I was still the one who would stay home for the majority of social events, I was still the one who dressed in either plain gowns or cast-offs of Jezebel's, I was still the one who had plenty of time to worry about marriage. So, why had Luke asked for my attendance instead of the beautiful gem that was my sister?
"It was Armand who had explained all this to me. Not the part of my being the baby or different, but the fact that I was expected to attend the dinner with no one but Jacques to go with me, and ultimately what it meant.
" 'Kit, you do realise that you've grown significantly since you last saw the man, don't you?" he had asked, when I failed to understand what he was saying. 'Luke has obviously taken an interest in you, little sister, and you know what that means.' And of course, I did. While my parents acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, they did arrange for a brand new gown to be bought for the occasion, and had me prepared and dressed like an animal ready to be sold. My dress was to be velvet and match my eyes, I was to wear emeralds instead of plain pearls, my hair should be curled instead of left straight. It was maddening, especially since I personally felt no different from the year before when I just attended these dinners as myself, with a plain colored gown and jewels that may have been beautiful but held no real significance. Yet still, I don't think it had fully hit me that I may have been expected to marry this man.
"When Jacques and I arrived in the family's carriage, instead of the usual stately servant waiting to greet us, Luke was there instead. He was exactly as I remembered him, if not more disturbing now that I knew of his intentions. His eyes glinted as he took my hand and helped me out of the carriage, although he said nothing and turned to greet my brother.
"Instead of heading into the house as I had expected, Luke first lead us on a path around the side, explaining that he wished for us to see the grounds properly. And although the spacious gardens and orchards were indeed beautiful, they did nothing for me. As usual I replied to all of his questions with a polite yet short answer, trying my hardest not to insult yet not to compliment the man I disliked so much.
"The dinner, like all the others, was filled with talk of business, the army, merchants, etcetera. But alongside the drawling words were also numerous compliments for myself, all of which I politely thanked him for but for the most part ignored. Luke didn't seem to notice, for Jacques and I were invited back many times after that, all of the occasions more or less the same. But, slowly, I noticed that things began to change. Luke began to send me gifts; first letters, then baskets of rare fruit and flowers, sometimes even accompanied by bottles of wine or crystal decorations. He sent me jewellery and clothing, all of which I found gaudy and repulsing but was still expected to wear, and animals including a beautiful white mare, birds, and even a family of peacocks. I was not only invited to dine with him but invited to go alone, and although his attention was focused constantly on me, he talked about himself mostly, so I didn't have to speak very often except for my uncharacteristic one-worded replies.
"Then the fateful news came, during my sixteenth summer. Luke had asked for my hand in marriage. Of course, my family was thrilled; he was rich, he was handsome, he was important. My betrothal to him was, to simply put it, my worst nightmare. I wanted nothing to do with him, but my parents felt differently. It was them Luke had asked, not me, and therefore I had absolutely no choice in the matter. But that didn't stop me from voicing my opinion.
"My parents simply wouldn't listen when I complained about it. Jacques said not to be ridiculous, of course I wanted to marry him, and Jezebel would say what an ungrateful spoiled brat I was, not to be happy about having such a wonderful fiancée. The only one who understood was Armand, but even he had told me that I had no choice.
"Every night I was expected to dine with him, and soon I was expected to spend the days with him also. I would play the violin for him every time he requested, and he would show me off to all of his horrible friends and family as if I was some trophy that he had won. I refused to let him kiss me, and the most contact that I allowed was for him to take my arm, claiming that I felt uncomfortable with affection out of wedlock, when really I was just uncomfortable with the man himself.
"One night, when we were strolling about in his gardens, he mentioned something about children, when I blurted out those six fateful words. 'I don't want to marry you.' Immediately I had regretted my outburst. I had seen how ruthless this man could be when he was beating on his servants or commanding his troop, and I truly believed that he had no heart. I was frightened for my life.
" 'Is this true?' he had asked. All I had the strength to do was nod. 'I'm afraid to say, miss Katrina DuValle, that you have no choice in it. You will marry me.'
" 'My name is Kit!' I had exclaimed, my fear mixed with anger. 'And I may marry you, but I refuse to love you.' Once again I regretted my words. I had never seen a man look so angry as Luke grabbed my shoulders, gripping them so tightly that I felt I would scream.
" 'How dare you speak to me like that!' He screamed, before slapping me hard on the face. The fear for my life grew stronger as he yelled at me more, all the time gripping my one shoulder with one hand and still slapping me with the other. I didn't have the strength to scream out, and besides, who would hear me? I was so sure this man would kill me, when suddenly I caught glimpse of the knife hanging from his belt. Somehow I managed to grab it and thrust it into his shoulder, before I quickly fled.
"It was late when I reached home, and the only people who were awake were a few of the servants. I hastily got one of them to help me pack, and without even saying a goodbye, I left.
"It didn't take long for reality to set in on me as I hurriedly shuffled towards the docks; I had stabbed my fiancée, one of the most important men in New Orleans. All I had were clothes, my violin and some money. What was I to do? Where was I to go? But it was too late to regret what I had done; I payed the sailors of a random ship to let me board, and that was it. I had left.
"They dropped me off at some unknown port on their way, claiming that as a woman, I was bringing bad luck to their crew. Not knowing what else to do, I began playing violin for money, first on the streets and eventually in taverns. Soon I was joined by other musicians who wished to make a living; a young boy who played the flute, more violinists. Eventually we realised that we could recruit more, and an orchestra of sorts was formed. For nearly two years we played for the wealthy and important, until finally we were offered the most money we'd ever been payed to play at the Westley mansion, and I met up with you."
By the time her story was finished, daylight had already been seeping through the cracks in the boat for a few hours. Both Kris and Jack stared for a moment in awe at her. Kris would have never imagined her childhood friend to have gone through so much, although she now realised that she was stronger than she had thought.
"That's… amazing." Kris said finally. "Have you seen anyone since that?"
Katrina shook her head.
"You haven't heard from anyone either? Not even Armand?"
Again she shook her head.
Jack opened his mouth to say something, before a cannon's shot sounded from somewhere outside, a suspiciously familiar one. The three pirates managed to rip off the canvas just in time to see the Black Pearl sailing towards them, it's crew waving happily.