❝Dead men tell no tales, lass. That's why very few pirates have cemented their names in history. The road to piracy leads to a short drop and a quick stop.❞
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The life of a commoner never sat easily with her, especially when she was su...
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Your eyes were open, but hazy, lost in a memory, a dream. The sounds of the sea, of shrieking wild beasts, and of a storm brewing on the horizon.
It was like being the sea itself -- breathing the waves, feeling the ebb and flow of the currents through your bloodstream.
"Sev." Called a voice. "Seven?" They called out again.
Your head snapped up when you heard it, only louder.
It was the lady of the mansion, a noble for whom you were under servitude. She stood in front of you, her kind eyes conveying her exhaustion, gown a wrinkled mess from running around all day. You were in no better condition yourself, having been worked till your fingers were nubs and your hair a tangled mess of indigo around your head.
"Miss?" You lifted yourself from the stool you had been sitting on and flattened the hem of your apron with a coarse hand, not wanting to appear completely unkempt around her, "Is there something you require?"
"Indeed." She rubbed her temples, eyes closing to a shut, "If you would be so kind, would you, in Carlos's stead, go out and purchase our groceries today? I find that our shortage of hands is getting in the way of our daily schedule." In a fit of fleeting anger, she spat out, as an afterthought, "Bloody pirates always manage to kill or steal our workers, one way or another."
"Ah." You blinked awake, running off to retrieve the basket for the groceries, "Of course, milady."
With that, you were off to the mart -- hobbling a little on your sore heels -- as you picked off the ripest produce from a few vendors with the shillings your Lady had given you; grabbing tomatoes, cucumbers, apples -- your favorite -- eggs, bread, and all manners of other delicacies. It seemed she was preparing for an upcoming party for the promotion of her father in the Navy. A little over the top, in your opinion, but who were you to say? You were a lowly handmaiden, after all.
You stopped just in front of the courtyard on your way to the next vendor, watching as yet another batch of pirates were hung on the executioner's platform. You tipped your imaginary hat to them -- out of respect to those who deserved it -- before going off on your way, crunching on an apple from the bushel you had purchased. The tart flavor burst in your mouth, and you squeezed your eyes shut in delight, relishing the taste as you knew this temporary moment would only last as long as it took for you to return from the town square to the manor.
Life as a maid was hard, but it was far better than your previous one at St. Mary's Island. Though, without Six, it was a lot more boring, with almost nothing to do once you were granted a reprieve after a hard day of chores. Although, now that you thought about it, life hadn't been so exciting even before. Especially when Two whisked Six away for some 'private' lessons she'd never found an interest in inviting you to attend. Maybe it had to do with your inability to read, or that you were too advanced -- you were definitely not more advanced than Six -- you never knew, and never asked. The past was in the past.
