Aztecs' Curse

Chapter 1

Eight Years Later

     Victoria's dark eyes stared unblinkingly at her reflection, remaining still as a swift pair of hands fiddled with her hair before brushing it. Cassandra, the woman called herself. Though most hardly acknowledged the maid, Victoria always gave the woman her personal attention, even considering her a friend. She was always there for her--and, sure, she was paid for it--but it almost seemed personal as well. After all, the woman also tended to run in whenever she had her nightmares--of which the night before had consisted of twisted forms of her memories from so many years before.
     The twenty-one year old woman lowered her gaze from her own eyes as her dark hair was gently brushed, though she glanced towards the door, feeling for some reason that she was about to be intruded. Almost immediately, there was a knock, and her gaze switched from the door's reflection to the door itself as Cassandra pulled her hands from her, taking a step towards the door.
     "It's alright," Victoria said, voice alarmingly gentle, and yet filled with a sort of permanent demand, and she smiled at the older woman, of whom curtsied before strolling to the other door in the corner of the room, which led to the servant's halls. Victoria turned towards the door, inhaling deeply before saying, "Just a moment!" Then, she strode over to her bed, where a red robe lay wait for her at the end of it, deciding that it would be best to at least put something on over the gown she was wearing at the moment, which most definitely wasn't considered appropriate. However, she didn't bother tying it, simply flipping her hair over her shoulders before striding up to the door and drawing it open.
     Her father's startled eyes met hers before they dropped down to her outfit and immediately closed, his face turning away. "Oh--Victoria!" He practically hissed her name, throwing a glance over his shoulder before hurriedly shutting the door. "Would you at least make yourself decent whenever you are in the company of another?"
     "I am very much covered," she said, her brows raising, though she felt some sort of relish upon making her father uncomfortable, as she was still very much upset that he hadn't allowed her to go off on her own at a younger age. Even more so, he still seemed to hold a sort of leash on her, mostly because he wouldn't let Elizabeth leave the country--much less, the city--with her. "We both know I could be much worse."
     "Oh, do we," the governor said with raised brows as well and a nod of his head, though those brows quickly furrowed as he glanced around the empty room. "Where is your maid?"
     "I dismissed Cassandra," Victoria responded. "I wanted to answer the door myself. Now, what brings you here so early?" The sun had, after all, just barely risen. And, though she was up herself, she hadn't expected anyone other than Cassandra as well to be.
     "There is something I wish to discuss with you," he said, and he gave her something of a warning look--something that told her to keep silent and listen as he spoke--to which she scowled at before sighing and nodding obediently. "Captain Norrington is to have a promotion ceremony today-"
     "Is that so?" she asked absently before perking up, having had gained a form of respect for the man despite their disagreements throughout the year. "Oh, how wonderful!" At her father's look of approval, she tried not to do more than smile, not wishing to make him suspicious, simply wanting him to approve of her reactions to his words, and though she wanted to usher him out and make her own plans for the day she knew such a thing wouldn't happen.
     "Yes, yes it is, isn't it." He beamed at her. "But, today marks another special day. There is a...possibility that he will...ask a certain question."
     Victoria blinked. In fact, she did so more than once, her thick lashes batting across her eyes before her look grew dark the longer she stared at her father and pondered on what he said.      "You know how I feel, father."
     "I do. You know I do, Victoria, but..." He trailed off, not seeming to know what to say next.
She gave him a look of disbelief, suddenly angry. Was he serious? Or, was he simply just assuming? She supposed his guess was accurate, of course, especially since she and Norrington shared something of a...strong bond. But that did not mean she wanted to marry. At least not yet.
     Her feet led her a step back, her head bobbing around as she spoke, unsure of how to empathize how she felt through her words. "You know there's still so much I want to do, father. I want to live. Can't you at least grant me that?"
     He gave her something of a sorrowful expression. "I know, Victoria, I know. But you know that you are the Governor's daughter-"
     "No!" she snapped, throwing her arms up with a dissatisfied expression and chuckle, staring flat at her father. "No. I am your daughter, father. Why can't you at least understand that?"
     "I do," he insisted, though she didn't believe him. "I do, my darling Victoria. But you just...you must remember-"
     "My responsibility," she finished, resisting an eye-roll. She crossed her room in the small amount of silence there was, sitting at the bench in front of her fireplace, slowly turning and splaying her arms out on the sides of the furniture with a curt nod. "I know," she said the instant she sat, though only before looking up at her father with pleading eyes. "But, father, what if this is not something I want?"
     "Victoria, that is precisely the point," he said, voice insistent, as he crossed the room and knelt in front of her, grabbing her hand and clasping it to his chest, eyes just as pleading. "You will not know until you try."
     She wanted so badly to point out the hypocrisy of his words. She wanted, incredibly, to point out all the times she had argued that exact point about her own wishes as well as Elizabeth's. Instead, she nodded. She nodded, and she grabbed the hand that had grabbed hers with her free one, drawing in a deep breath as she closed her eyes. Then, she reopened those alarmingly beautiful eyes and said, "I will think about it."
     There it was again. Her father's glorious beam washed over her, and she felt a wave of happiness at such a look, having had always relished whenever her father gave her such a look. Such a proud look. And of her, out of her and Elizabeth. But then, Elizabeth was very much like herself. In some ways, anyway.
     He pushed himself to his feet and strode over to her door, giving her a brief smile before drawing it open and nodding, which drew her curiosity. Of course, before she could get too curious, a few maids rushed in, all of whom held boxes of various sizes. "I have a gift for you, Victoria."
     "I cannot even begin to guess what for," she responded sourly, her eyes bitterly staring at the well wrapped boxes in the arms of the women who now stood before her, and she looked up to eye her father wearily. "What are they?"
     "A dress, shoes, and any chosen accessories," her father responded as if her tone had gone unnoticed, and he clapped his hands together as he glanced from the boxes to Victoria. "I decided to let you choose what would go best with the chosen dress, of course."
     "Of course," she repeated sourly as she watched one of the maids pull the biggest box open, which revealed a blue satin dress. She couldn't resist the gasp that escaped her lips, entranced with the material as well as the figure of the dress itself, and its fine colors, and before she knew it she was pushing herself to her feet and accepting the dress from the maid, who handed it to her with a smile, holding it against herself and staring down at it with parted lips and bright eyes.
     "Do you...like it?" her father asked.
     Her anger was replaced immediately by the familiar sound of the yearning to be accepted in his voice, and she gazed up at him with smiling eyes. "I love it!" She twirled around with it held to her--for show--which only made her father's smile grow. "Oh, father, it's perfect."
     "Well then," he said, gesturing for a couple of the maids to go open the curtains, of whom did so immediately while another blew out the lamp lit next to Victoria's bed. "Go on--try it on."
     She grinned at him before disappearing behind the screen in her room with a couple of maids. Normally, she would protest, but she adored her father when she pleased him, and so allowed for the extra set of arms, peeling off her red robe and white gown before allowing the other two maids to help her get into her new dress. Much to her surprise, the corset was surprisingly tight, causing her to gasp for breath a moment before she adjusted to it.
     The governor, having had heard his daughter's distressful sound, tilted his head. "Is everything alright?"
     "The style... It is very tight. Where did you say this dress was from?"
     "I didn't," he responded, and she peeked around to see him pacing her room with his hands clasped behind his back before she leaned back again. "I was informed that it's the latest fashion in London."
     "Women in London must have learned not to breathe," Victoria muttered as her dress was tightened around her, sucking in what little breath she could.
     "What was that?" her father called to her.
     "N-nothing!" she called back before nodding at the maids, of whom nodded at her in turn, and she stepped out, only to be bombarded with a variety of jewels. To match her sky-blue, she chose an opal set that was offered to her, and slipped into white heels, averting her gaze from her father's for a brief moment before turning to him, her cheeks flushing from her lack of breath. "Well... Do you think Norrington would approve of such a sight for his ceremony...?" She was only being sardonic at that moment, but she knew that her father would take her seriously.
     "I think... He's going to love you." His eyes landed on hers as she spoke, and she found it rather difficult to turn away from him at that moment, her lips parting before her hands raised to brush loose dark strands from her face, and he nodded at the maids, all of whom left the room to allow father and daughter some privacy. Then, he strode up to her, taking her hands in his as his eyes peered into hers, making it even more difficult for her to glare or even plead. "Good things are going to happen, Victoria. I can feel it. Can't you?"
     She hesitated, this time keeping in touch with her inner gut--as she often did, and of which was often right to listen too--but she felt nothing but a sort of dread. Whether it was for the possibility of Norrington's proposal, or something else, she wasn't sure. But, she mirrored her father's smile with one of her own, and nodded. "I can."