Cursed | Armando Salazar x OC

FIVE

Teeth clattering violently, I allow the officers to escort me into the Great cabin towards the bed. One stands idly by, unsure of what to do with a shivering human with pale skin and blue lips. The other tries his best to help by ripping apart more of the bed curtains and holding them out towards me.

I accept them with a shaking hand and wrap them around my shoulders to generate some warmth. Although, I've been cold too long and the fact that my clothes and hair are soaked, doesn't help at all. I need to get rid of this dress and find something dry to wear.

At the thought of that, my eyes land on the dress on the table, the one they found from the pirate wreck. I can tell by a single look it's slightly different than the grand dresses Elizabeth taught me to wear. In the same breath, it also isn't as dull as the nurse uniform the Navy made me wear some days. But what it looks like doesn't matter. What matters is to get dry and avoid catching a possible fever.

"Th-thank you f-for your he-help," I tell the officers through shivers and clattering teeth, "May I p-please have so-some privacy?"

They nod once and like the ghostly beings they are, float downwards and disappear through the floorboards.

The moment they're gone, I grab at the dry dress and toss it on the bed. Then I reach up to start undoing the buttons on my current garment's bodice. If getting dressed is as hard as is it is, getting undressed with cold and numb fingers takes the prize. My fingers slip numerous times, my nail catches on some loose thread and nearly tear off, and one of the buttons breaks clean off when I tug on it too harshly.

At last, I am in my undergarments and corset - the blasted thing. Elizabeth gave it to me a few months ago. Apparently, it is the latest fashion in London. I nearly fainted when the maids pulled on the strings that day - did the women in London never learn to breathe? Fortunately, I learned how to wear mine slightly looser than what is expected of it.

The second the corset and undergarments hit the floor, I shiver in relief at the absence of the icy, wet material. It hardly bothers me that I'll be putting on the new dress without anything underneath. It's not as if I'll be leaving the cabin any time soon, not until I am fully warm, my clothes and fully dry, and I thought up a good enough story to explain to the crew why I'm not dead.

Using the ripped curtains, I dry off the rest of the saltwater on my legs and back before picking up the dry dress. But just as I roll up the material to slip it over my head, the door bursts open and in limps the Capitán.

My breath hitches in my throat and on instinct, I press the garment to my bare frame to defend my modesty.

He stops dead in his tracks when our eyes meet. His flickers downwards to my bare ankles for a split second before growing in realization and darting to the side, avoiding looking at me completely.

"Don't you knock?" I exclaim in a higher pitch than usual.

"How was I supposed to know you are getting dressed?" He defends himself while still looking everywhere except at me.

"Turn around!"

With two thumps of his rapier, his back is turned on me and I seize the opportunity to throw the dress over my head and shimmy it down my waist. The moment it covers my ankles, my hands go up to pull at the strings at the back, but since the dress is a size or two too big, it keeps slipping down my chest to reveal more cleavage than I wish to show.

"Dammit!" I curse when the strings slip through my fingers once more, thus sending the bodice slipping down a third time. Huffing in annoyance, I accept what I must do and clear my throat, "I can't believe I'm asking this but, could you help me, please?"