So. The Prologue was short, but the chapters will be longer... I promise! Read and review, as always.

Chapter One

"Helena!"

A girl, currently wrapped up in layers and layers of blankets upon a fancy, wrought-iron canopy bed opened one eye lazily, in response to her name being called. She saw her maid, Cat, running in, breathing heavily and as mad as a hornet, so she smirked, rolled over, and closed her eyes again, feigning sleep. The maid began to shout and shake her, none too gently, in an attempt to wake the girl up.

"Helena. HELENA. MISS HELENA!" she shouted, and was finally rewarded by a head popping up from among the covers, yawning, and with wide-eyed innocence asking, "Oh, I'm sorry Cat. Were you calling me?" With a chuckle, Helena rolled out of bed and threw open her wardrobe, inspecting the clothes inside.

"If I may suggest something..." Cat started, but was quickly cut off. "No. You may not. It's my birthday and I'll wear whatever I please." Cat rolled her eyes and sighed, but not saying anything to rebuke the girl. It was the same routine daily, and Cat was fed up. Helena was an unmanageable brat, in her humble opinion, because Cat's employers, Helena's parents, spoiled her senseless. Anything that Helena wanted, Helena got, and God help any man that got in her way.

It had gone that way since Helena was adopted by the master and mistress when she was five, thirteen years ago. She had never been a particularly adorable child, her face was too sharp and angled, and her brown eyes and reddish hair were... well... ordinary. Cat didn't see why the Butlers, for that was their name, didn't adopt a child whose looks they could be proud of, maybe a blonde, blue-eyed girl. There were many such as this in the orphanage, but they had immediately selected Helena. And it wasn't just Cat that was confused; the whole household staff had been puzzled. In fact, they still were puzzled.

Helena, to the household staff, and anyone besides her parents, was a bratty girl of eighteen, spoiled rotten, and accustomed to getting her own way. In fact, she wouldn't accept anything but her way. "Nothing but the best for Miss Helena," the household staff had spat on more than one occasion. Cat had been her nurse since she had been adopted, and thought that it was high time that the girl got herself a husband. But there was a catch: he had to be able to manage such a girl. It wouldn't do for Helena to have a husband that she could walk all over, it would defeat the purpose.

It was for this reason that Cat had ever-so-slyly suggested to her employer, Mistress Butler, that Helena host a ball in honor of her eighteenth birthday. Maybe then she would put on her best manners and finally find a husband. There was no better time, Cat thought privately. Her own daughter was having a child quite soon, and with Helena gone, maybe she could retire from her job. After all, she wouldn't be needed anymore. Cat smiled as she thought this; to be free from the wretched Miss Helena would be something!

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that Helena's voice almost made her jump. "CAT! Where is your head today? I've been calling you for the past five minutes, asking you if you would please do your job and lace my corset!" Cat nodded, dully. Yes, it would be lovely to be rid of the burden that called herself 'Helena'.

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Finally, after over three hours of agonizing over dresses and jewelry, and after her hair had been done several times because it hadn't 'suited' her, Helena was ready, and about a half-hour late to her own party. "After all," she thought to herself, "The only entrance worthwhile is a fashionable entrance."

She gazed in the mirror with an appraising eye, trying to see her as a stranger would. She wasn't beautiful and she knew it; her friends were great beauties with their flowing golden hair and beautiful eyes, but Helena had an interesting look about her. Angled cheekbones and eyes that turned ever-so-slightly upwards gave her a pixie-like appearance, and her eyes were a murky brown color, rather large and out-of-proportion on her small face. She resented the fact that they weren't a clear, beautiful shade of blue or green, or even a dark, chocolate brown like some of her friends.

She was thin, but wiry, and not very strong, though ladies aren't really expected to be. For her birthday, she had selected a deep green silk, with a gossamer overlay, and intricate gold embroidery on the bodice. She marveled at her waist; she had screamed at Cat for the better part of an hour to pull the laces of her corset tighter, and her work had certainly paid off. Her reddish-brown hair was pulled into a loose chignon, "The latest style that all of the fine ladies in London are wearing," she silently intoned.

The creak of her bedroom door opening startled Helena from her narcissistic thoughts, and her mother, Virginia Butler, stepped into the room, looking lovely in a blue gown. It was said that one would never realize that Helena was adopted, for she bore a great resemblance to her mother. Her mother was Irish, that much she knew, but to Helena, her mother's past was, for the most part, a mystery, but she didn't dwell on it.

Her mother shut the door quietly behind her, and then stood, studying Helena, her eyes flitting over her face countless times, as if trying to commit it to memory. Finally, Virginia stepped towards her, holding what appeared to be a slim, worn book with a leather cover, and a bit of dirty, stained green ribbon wrapped around it. "Here," Virginia spoke quietly, "This is your birthday present. It was given to your father and I when we adopted you. We weren't to give it to you until your eighteenth birthday."

Helena took the worn volume and turned it over in her hands. The leather was marred with scratches and gashes, and worn away in parts. The ribbon was absolutely horrid looking, stained with dirt and God knows what else. She wrinkled her nose ever-so-slightly in distaste. "Mother, I don't wish to be rude, but... what is it? It's positively dreadful-looking." Virginia smiled a smile that was almost sad, regretful, and said almost mockingly, "Well, Helena, why don't you read it and answer that question for yourself."

With that, she whisked out of the room in a rustling of petticoats and silk, shutting the door and leaving Helena, puzzled, with the book still in her hands.

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The first chapter! Let me know what you all think of it. Read and review!

Yours,

-- Ella.

Captain Ella Raven.