A/N: Special thanks goes to my new beta, Erik…thanks for spotting my mistakes and cleaning this baby up!
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On the other side of the world, or so it seemed, a ship set sail from a remote island hidden in the middle of nowhere.
At the helm stood a man in a large brimmed hat, decorated with magnificent plumes of feathers that fluttered in the warm ocean breeze. While his crew scurried around performing their daily chores aboard ship, he looked off into the distance, a weathered and weary look in his blue eyes.
Placing a long and narrow hand on the rail closest to him, his thoughts gradually moved in the direction of her once more.
She was everything to me…my world. Why can I not forget about her? Ah well…perhaps this life will allow me to lose myself, once and for all.
Everything was all too slow to him. His movements felt lethargic as everyone seemed to be speeding around him, as if time had slowed down for him alone. Eventually, his steps took him to the door of his cabin; he did not remember moving from the helm to that spot on the lower deck. He gently pushed the door open and went inside, closing himself off from the world once again.
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A month into the expedition, I was beginning to realize that this was not the adventure I had anticipated when I ran away from Aunt Felicity's house. Mopping, tying up the ropes, helping the cook, doing what the captain assigned…it was fine, but hardly an adventure.
What I wanted, what I dreamed of was meeting pirates! I always wanted to see pirates with my own eyes, yet at this rate, it was not going to happen. What pirate captain would want to capture this ship? We were nothing but a bunch of boring sailors on a trading expedition to the islands.
As I was mopping up on the deck one morning, one of the passengers approached me with a question perched on his perfectly shaped lips. I really did not know him since I was often too busy to talk to the few passengers aboard; that and the captain did not really encourage the mixing of crew and passengers.
"Oh cabin boy!" he said, in a rather loud and pompous manner. He walked in a quick fashion, almost as if he was a type of bird skimming across the water. With his hand raised in the air and his index finger pointing to the sky, he headed straight for me.
I stopped mopping and studied his approaching figure, with both curiosity and amusement. His hair, a golden blond, was perfectly shaped and rather than tying it back – as was the fashion – he chose to let it hang loose and curl under, forming a pageboy of sorts. I thought he looked prissy and feminine, just by the way his hair bounced as he walked.
"Yes'ir?" I said, almost timidly.
Opening his blue eyes widely, he proceeded to ask me if and when we would ever see land again.
"I really do not know, sir," I replied, clutching the mop with both hands. "Captain Marksby says it will be another month or so."
"A month!" he exclaimed, a look of shock settling on his rosy features. "This just will not do!"
He began to pace in front of me, one hand clutching a notebook of sorts and the other skimming his hair ever so smoothly.
"Why, sir?" I asked, knowing I probably did not want to hear his answer.
"This salty air! That's why!" he replied, testily. "It's just no good for my hair!"
I couldn't believe my ears, and had to be sure I heard him right: "Your…hair, sir?"
"Yes, my hair!"
"May I ask why, sir?"
Sighing and rolling his eyes, he replied, "It dries my hair out. My hair is very sensitive and needs the moisture. This air dries it completely out!" With that last complaint, he waved his hand through the air and sniffed.
I had never seen anyone like him…I did not know what to make of him at all.
After a few minutes had passed, he finally gave up trying to explain his hair dilemma and getting me to say exactly when we were to make landfall. I think he went in search of the captain, but I did not know until I saw the captain making his way over to me a few moments later.
"Mr. Harmon," Captain Marksby said, hands clasped behind his back. "I was so informed that you were not helpful to one of the passengers just now."
I was angry that the passenger would say such a thing, as I had told him I did not know when we would arrive at the islands. "Captain, I tried to answer his questions, but I-"
He stopped me. "I know you tried, Mr. Harmon…this particular passenger is a difficult sort of chap and has complained about everything since setting foot aboard the first time."
"Who is he, sir?" I inquired. "If I am allowed to ask…"
Smiling, the captain invited me to walk with him. "That, young Jenn, is Jonathan Worthy, one of Europe's most wealthy citizens. He has more money than sense, I believe. A patron of many things, including opera and the theatre, he has backed many artistic endeavors; in fact, he is engaged to one Hélène Chénier, one of Paris' leading opera singers. Have you ever heard of her? I thought not. She has the voice of an angel, clearly hitting some of the highest notes imaginable without any effort."
I listened intently, interested in these people who lived so lavishly. "Have you heard her sing, captain?"
He nodded, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Anyone who wants to be seen in social settings has attended an opera with Mademoiselle Chénier as the lead singer. Not only is she the top opera singer in Europe, she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the privilege of seeing in person."
"What does she look like?"
"She is a tiny lady, only so tall," he said, showing me with his hand. "When she is not in costume, she has the most beautiful red hair, styled into perfect sized curls. Her eyes are the color of the sky on the clearest day. Her smile could light up the night…" His voice drifted off, as he started thinking about the beautiful opera singer.
…if she is as beautiful and popular as the captain says, why would she marry someone like Jonathan Worthy? "If I may, sir," I started slowly. "…why would Mademoiselle Chénier want to marry someone like Mr. Worthy? Does she love him?"
"Ah, the innocence of a young girl…it is status that she is marrying, Mr. Harmon, not the person."
I was thoroughly confused. "She is marrying status? What happened to Mr. Worthy?"
Lightly chuckling, Captain Marksby looked at me. "Often women will marry someone for their money or position in society. Love never plays into the marriage. Sometimes love will eventually occur, but it is not a common happening, especially in the marriages of the high class."
With that statement, I began to wonder if my parents had married for this…status. I tried to remember if Aunt Felicity had ever mentioned anything, but I soon recalled she never spoke of my parents unless I asked about something specifically.
Captain Marksby had a look on his face that I did not recognize…had I seen it once I was older, I would have known it was the look of unrequited love. For Mademoiselle Chénier? I did not know and never would find out, as the captain never spoke of his personal life.
Before I could ask another question, he had disappeared into the depths of his cabin where he remained for hours.