I was very tired. I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before and my attempts at resting were being thwarted by the constant jostling of the carriage. Just the week before my father had told me I was to be married off to a British Navy Commodore. My father thought me daft and gave little information on why the fellow would want a wife under such short notice. I mean what man decides to go through matrimony after getting their heart torn out and dashed against some gnarly sea rocks by a woman he loved for most of his life? James Norrington that's who, and the woman? My lovely cousin Elizabeth Swann.