Promise

Chapter 3

I waited in a large room filled with shelves full of books and many tables with fancy, expensive looking glass arrangements while Wesley searched in a large, hidden closet in the back of the room for something for me to wear.

He put his hands on his hips and clicked his tongue, tapping his foot.

"I don't know what Captain is going to think about this one. There's nothing suitable for a female. We've never had a female on this ship... at least... Not that I can remember..." I wondered what that was supposed to mean, as I stood silently, my hands crossed in front of my lap, not really knowing how to respond. After a while of thinking, Wesley sighed, "Welp, guess we'll have to mend something up for you. I'll go talk to Cap'n, you stay here."

He swiftly moved past me, as I politely stood there without a word. But as soon as he left and the door shut behind him, I was off to explore this massive room.

I marveled at the amount of dusty books that sat like dead souls on the shelves, looking as though they'd been untouched for generations. I would have loved to have that many books to choose from my whole childhood always living on the seas. And yet these sat here with no one to read them.

Looking through all the drawers of the tables I saw nothing interesting. Just a bunch of random junk like nails, old feather pens with no ink to go with them, etc. I shut the drawer I had been digging through for something interesting, as a large painting hung on the wall across the room.

"How did I not notice you?" I whispered to myself.

My thoughts were cut out when a crisp voice strong with an accent, what sounded either British or Australian, said, "I'm sure you are thinking that's me."

I shot around, my heart skipping a beat as my eyes met Captain Plume , but without his hat. His hair was several inches long, of chestnut-golden brown hair, which even when a bit messy, kept me intrigued

"I uh... I guess so." I looked at the painting them looked back at him.

"It does look almost identical to you. Is it a portrait of you?"

He walked closer, slowly setting his hands in his pockets, making his belt and sword visible, as he continued staring deep into the picture.

Once he was nearly hip to hip with me, he shook his head, letting out a breath of air I assumed was some kind of laugh and sighed, "That's not me. It's my father. He was in charge of this ship before me. Captain Flinn. He died when I was only seventeen-and-a-half years old."

"How old are you now?" I asked. Partly to understand his background more and also because I wanted to know maybe what we had in common. I just wanted to know more about him.

He paused for a moment and soon answered, "I am twenty as of twelve days ago," he answered.

I nodded. "Oh. Well... I'm really sorry about your father. I know how it feels..." I hinted.

"Do you?" he asked, looking at me with that greedy grin again.

I nodded.

"I was separated from my father and his men as of last night and I have no idea if he is alive or dead now. Or if I'll even see him again."

He rudely rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the painting.

"Well deary, try having that feeling for three years. And not having a what if. And no you don't know what it's like. You say you were a sailor? Try being an actual pirate. Your life is constantly at risk. It's not easy. And being the captain? Have you experienced that, darling? No. Because I took you in as one of us."