CHAPTER 31
Pheonix's Backstory Revealed! Why She Became a Pirate!
Pheonix is dragged along the deck, down too many ladderwells to count before finally reaching the brig. She doesn't fight it. All she remembers by the end of it is being tossed into a sole cell in a tiny room. She's bruised and battered, but mostly relieved. They could have easily found Ari instead of me. I still have no idea how that dumb uncover marine believed me. I look nothing like her. She laughs to herself, before doubling over coughing again. This damn throat! She looks around her damp and musty cell. Her laugh turns grim. The accommodations here aren't going to help either. I guess it's not going to matter for very long though. I know what they do to high profile pirates. Even if I told them who I am, who my family is and where I come from, it wouldn't matter. I would rather die than go back there. Even though Pheonix is headed to death and trapped in a cell, she would much rather be there than go back home. In that moment, all she feels is happiness and gratitude at being far away from that place in the past…
Victoria is enjoying her last moments to herself this evening by her bedroom window. She jumps out of bed and hops to her balcony. She takes in the view of the gardens and the evening breeze brings the fresh scent of their rose bushes. It's so close… I could touch it! Freedom. Some red birds resting on a branch near her window catch air and fly away. She sighs in jealousy and that's when the thought comes to her. She rushes in her bedroom and pulls out a piece of paper and some crayons. As she's finished drawing, her bedroom door opens and she stiffens, but relaxes as soon as she sees it's her maid, Marie.
"Victoria," Marie calls, "it's time to get ready and go downstairs. You know your father doesn't like to be kept waiting." She closes the door behind her and Victoria reluctantly caves, setting her drawing aside for later.
She looks down at her feet and nibbles on her lip. "I don't feel well, can I skip dinner today?" she fibs.
Marie frowns, but is understanding. "You tried that last week, remember?"
Victoria shivers. Last week didn't end very well for her. "Is he in good spirits today, at least?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Marie answers. She smiles at Victoria and continues, "Come on, I'll make you look extra pretty today." She claps her hands together excitedly and Victoria responds in kind. This wasn't just a favorite part of Victoria's day, but a staple in her routine. Marie just made everything about her home sparkle, despite the dreary aura that stains it.
Finally, after layers and layers and making sure damn near every inch of skin is covered up, Marie escorts her downstairs to the dining room. They pass marble hallways, grand doors and many other fancy things that most children would be ecstatic to have. All Victoria wants is freedom from all of it. The tall walls close her in and she longs to go outside and be a normal kid. They arrive at the dining room doors and before opening it, Marie crouches down so that they're the same height. She cups Victoria's tiny chin in her hand, lifting it so that Victoria looks her in the eye. Marie says, "You'll survive this. Just one hour and he'll be back at work and you can be free for a while. Okay?"
Victoria forces a smile and responds, "Okay."
Marie gives her a comforting pat on the back before opening the doors and ushering Victoria in. Victoria holds her breath, fearing the mere sound would irritate her father today. Luckily, she goes unnoticed, and she quietly takes a seat next to her brother. Marie bows and closes the doors behind her as she leaves. At the head of the table is her father, next to him her mother and on the other side just her two brothers and her. She always wished her table would be lively and conversational, but the only thing that would be passed in conversation was what her father wished to talk about. Most of it was shallow and barely skimmed the surface. She was certain her father didn't really know any of his children. He was too caught up in power. Power in the government, power in the household, power in everything. She helps herself to some of the grand spread before them and eats silently like everyone else. Their silence is interrupted when there's a loud sound at the end of the table, making everyone jump.
"Damn it!" her father shouts. "Did you all really eat the rest of my favorite potatoes? I need to eat too you know!" No one dares to speak a word. They all just stare in silence at the head of the table, waiting and hoping he will calm down. "Well," he demands. "Do none of you have anything to say for yourself?! Who ate it?" Victoria loves potatoes and she's usually very careful to not take some, but today she made a mistake. She looks down at her plate and realizes she ate it. She gulps and looks back up only to be greeted by the burning eyes of her father. She opens her mouth to explain, but all that comes out is a barely audible squeak. Another stretch of silence. "How. Dare. You." her father says quietly. Somehow, his quiet demeanor is more menacing than if he had shouted. He looks over to her mother and growls, "You might want to teach her to have some manners." He cuts his eyes back to Victoria and then scans the table to his brothers and her mother. "If you people don't shape up soon, I'll have to go find a better family."
Victoria looks down at her lap, willing herself to be strong.
Her father slams down his fists on the table, rattling Victoria's plate in front of her. "I'M IN CHARGE HERE! I MAKE THE RULES!" She squeezes her eyes shut, willing this to pass. She doesn't see her father grab his own plate and throw it forcibly in her direction. It hits her head, breaking the skin and she screams at the impact. Refusing to cry in front of him, she immediately dashes from the dining room, hearing her mom rebel against his actions for the first time in her life. She doesn't stop running until she's safely locked away in the refuge of her bedroom. Finally alone, she lets the tears come. She pulls her knees up to her chest and cries and cries, not knowing that Marie is close by.
Marie approaches her and says, "Let me get something for that cut." Victoria is startled at the sound of Marie's voice, but calms down and processes what Marie just said. Victoria nods in response and soon Marie is back with some antiseptic and bandaids. "I'm sorry, Miss Victoria," Marie explains. "I wish I had the guts to stand up to him. If for nothing else, then for your sake."
"It's okay, Marie," Victoria answers. Victoria was used to it. She always survived, at least. She was determined to do so, too. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say that would make her wish herself dead. Not when what she really wanted was freedom from this house.
As Marie finishes up patching Victoria's wounds she searches for a way to cheer Victoria up. Her eyes scan the room and come across the drawing that Victoria had set aside earlier. "That drawing you were working on earlier," Marie says and puts on the last bit of antiseptic. "Can I see it?"
As she hoped, Victoria's face lights up and she grabs the picture from across the floor. She holds it up, proudly displaying it to Marie. "It's a phoenix!" Victoria exclaims excitedly. She then holds the drawing close, looking at it herself. She continues, "One day, I'm gonna be free from this place. Just like a phoenix! They always bounce back from the ashes! They can fly and go wherever they want and I want to be able to do that." She smiles somberly, wishing it to be true.
Marie's smile dims, knowing that that hope is unlikely. With Victoria's status as a celestial dragon, her hands will be tied to her parents and to the government for the rest of her life. Realizing that sad reality, Marie is suddenly determined to change it.
"You know what?" Marie says.
"What?" Victoria's eyes light with excitement.
"I'm going to make sure that happens. Maybe I can broker a deal with your father to get you a little more freedom around here. I can't make any promises, but I'll try my best."
Victoria's excitement turns to concern. "Marie…"
"Victoria," she responds pointedly. "Don't worry about me. Your father might be powerful, but what's the worst he can do?" Victoria tries to interject, but Marie cuts her off, "If anything happens, we can just call the marines and they can keep me safe."
Victoria isn't sure she quite believes her, but she chooses to, if only because she needs her to be right. The marines are the good guys… she reasons to herself… surely, they would help if Marie was in danger. Suddenly full of hope, Victoria embraces Marie and they hold each other tight. Marie picks Victoria up and tucks her in bed. Once Victoria is settled, Marie leaves the room with a little wave and hopeful smile that Victoria joyfully returns.
The next morning, Victoria is so full of hope. She practically leaps out of bed and dresses herself up nice and pretty, wanting to show off to Marie just how grown up she is becoming. How ready she is for this extra bit of freedom that Marie is bargaining for on her behalf. There is a polite knock at her door before it opens and she exclaims a joyful noise as she rushes to the door. But the person on the other side of the door is father's butler. He gestures for her to walk with him and a feeling of cold, bitter dread fills her bones. So many questions run through Victoria's mind, but she doesn't have the stomach to ask any of them. The butler escorts her in silence until the arrive at the dining room. Marie breathes a silent sigh of relief. I'm so silly. Marie is probably just sick. That's why father's butler came to escort me instead. Surely, if something bad had happened, I wouldn't be escorted to breakfast as usual.
The butler opens the door for her to enter and Marie walks with a newfound sense of comfort into the dining room. One look at the dining room table, however, and the feeling immediately vanishes. Her brothers wear mirroring looks of terror and wounds that nearly match the one on her head. She risks a look at her father and her stomach curls. He eats quietly, but his expression carries a sickeningly smug smile as he stuffs himself. She looks to mother's place next to him and notices that it's empty. She carries a question in her eyes toward her brothers again, but her gut answers it without needing outside validation. Her legs carry her stiffly to her place at the table. As she stares at her empty plate, she knows the truth. Marie is gone. And so is mother. She doesn't dare take a single piece of food, her belly filled instead with cold anger and solid determination. I will survive this. I will survive this. She dares a look at her father once more, the fire alight in her eyes even as her limbs run cold. And once I have an opportunity, I'm leaving. And I'm never coming back.