𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 4

His Pirate Princess| Pirate AU| Request

I nod my head and smile at Sir Danvers as my mother and father stare at me expectedly from across the ballroom. The much older man grips my palm in his sweaty one, the stench of alcohol and cigarettes practically oozes from him as his eyes dip to the low neckline of my dress, my breasts are practically tossed in his face thanks to my mother's insistence of capturing his attention. I'd hoped to avoid him this evening, but it's getting harder and harder to hide away from my parents' matchmaking schemes. I'm to be married off soon, but I have no intention of being a bride to a man who only wants me for my body and the things it can do. I have an excellent mind and dreams I want to achieve, the last thing I want is a man telling me what I can and can't do. 

I stifle a sigh as Sir Danvers leads me to the dancefloor, then without asking he tugs me to him, a groan slips from him as my waist presses to his very hard one, then he begins to 'dance'. I wince every time he steps on my toes, but he doesn't seem to notice, or care. I let him fondle me, I've already tried to push him away and beg my parents to at least set me up with a decent man, but they've no wish for me tie myself to a man without money, and sadly Danvers has much of it. Too much. I sweat and my breaths become uneven as we dance and dance, it's hot and stuffy, and I'm sick of Danvers breathing his stench onto my face. I pull away from Danvers, using the excuse of a bathroom break which seems to at least make him turn up a lip in disgust- because gosh, women going to the loo is so dreadful- then I slip out of the ballroom, letting my shoulders slump for the first time in hours. The faint symphonies echo down my family's estate as I lean against the wall, swatting off invisible hands as I calm myself down and stare out of the windows, in the distance I can see the ships floating at the docks, each seemingly so far from my gilded cage. 

How much longer do I have to slowly die inside before I'm a body without a soul? I yearn for a life of my own, even without the riches my parents provide me. I'm grateful for their upbringing and the care they seem to show, despite it being everything I loathe, but if I stay I know I'm going to hate myself. I blink away tears, hands curling into fists as I make up my mind. I'm leaving this godforsaken island- tonight. I play my part for the last time as I venture back into the ballroom, heading straight for the alcohol. I sneak down a few champagne flutes as I ignore Danvers' touches and boring conversation, a plan forming in my mind. 

The same night, I pack everything I'll need into a small bag and sneak out. I've never shown a rebellious bone in my body, which means nobody batters an eyelid as I smile and softly pad downstairs and to the front door. One maid watches me with furrowed brows, as if knowing what I'm up to, but as I panic and freeze, she then walks past me to the front door, unlocks it and holds it open for me. "Be free, miss." She whispers, giving me a small smile. I smile in return, nodding before dashing off into the night, running straight for the docks. I barely have time to scan the names of the ships before choosing a darker coloured one, it looks simple enough and surely can't be on a long journey, it's practically devoid of sailors as I sneak onboard and hide within the storage hold. My heart pounds with a mix of excitement and fear as the sea breeze wafts my hair away from my face, the scent of brine strong and the chilly air cool. I wait and wait for morning, but before I know it I'm drifting off between two barrels, the peace washing over me like a calm wave. 

When morning comes, I'm awoken to shouts and the hustle and bustle of activity above me. My eyes shoot open as I realise we're far out at sea, the island I once called home long gone. I stand, stretching my arms above my head as my lips curve into a smile. I should be terrified, but there's nothing to be scared of now that I'm- 

"There's a dama onboard." A male voice murmurs in disbelief. I freeze, turning around to see a man- maybe in his late twenties to early thirties- staring at me. I swallow, holding out my hands as he steps back and begins to grin. He bows, though the polite gesture is completely out of place considering his clothes, they're rugged and out of fashion. ""No se supone que estés aquí, ¿verdad?" He asks, tilting his head as he looks up at me, his reddish brown hair flopping in his face. I shake my head, not understanding him.