A Pirate's Song.

Chapter Twenty.

Two years ago.

Evangeline.

I was making the beds that lined the walls inside the small room of the town orphanage, pulling the pale grey sheets tight before brushing out the wrinkles.

Tessa was watching me, hugging her brown teddy bear to her chest as she fiddled with her bare toes. Her blond curls were a wild mess and had yet to be combed. She was telling me about how she had seen a fairy the night prior, about how it had floated up to her window and told her magical things. I listened intently, moving from one bed to the next, humming in response every now and then until she fell completely silent.

“Tessa?” I questioned, standing upright to look down at the girl, dressed in a simple blue frock that was nothing special. She was staring at one of the beds on the other side of the room, her big blue eyes filled with curiosity and wonder.

“Big sister, look” she said, pointing at one of the beds. I turned to find that she was referring to my bed that was just like all the others, small with an iron white frame, decorated in grey sheets. At first I didn’t understand what she was referring to.

“The bed?” I asked, looking back down at the little girl. She shook her head furiously and scurried across the old floorboards, her feet causing them to groan. Using her elbows and knees she climbed up onto the bed and sat down in front of something yellow.

“It’s a flower” she leaned down to get a closer look at it, her eyes big with awe since she had probably never seen a flower up close before. My eyebrows furrowed up as I moved to see what she was marveling at. A single yellow rose lay across my bedsheets. I found it odd that such a valuable flower would be there, the kind that only the rich could afford.

“It’s a rose” I explained, reaching out to pick it up by its green stem, being careful not to prick my fingers on the thorns.

I turned it this way and that, noticing the water droplets that rested on its soft petals along with how they so delicately folded outward like lips puckering.

My eyes landed on the open window above my bed, the white curtains dancing in the breeze as the shoreline outlined the background.

“It’s really pretty” Tessa muttered, her wide eyes glued to the blossom as I held it. I smiled down at her, pressing the rose’s lips to my nose to breathe in a long breath, smelling its fragrance. It was an oddly sweet smell that I hadn’t smelt too often before.

I held it out for Tessa to do the same, imitating what she had seen me do. She pressed her nose into the bloom and sniffed.

“It smells sweet” she announced, her face clouded in confusion. I laughed lightly and eased down onto the edge of the bed, tucking the material of my old, warn grey dress underneath my legs.

“Most flowers are sweet” I said, thinking back to the rare occasions when I would get to smell some at the market but even just passing by the baskets could allow the perfume to catch one’s attention. The sun was rising into the sky with not a cloud in sight as the salty breeze brushed against our naked arms.

“Why?” she tilted her head to the side, causing her messy mane of hair to tumble down one shoulder. She was around six or seven and naturally curious. She had once had an entire conversation with one of the women who ran the orphanage about why birds can fly. I smiled down at her.

“Because they need to attract bees” explaining how pollination worked and so on would be too much for her to comprehend so I decided to stick to the basics.

She only seemed to grow more confused, her arms tightening around her stuffed animal that I had to stitch up a few times in the past from how warn and old it was.

“Bees?” I hummed in response, tapping her nose with the rose before I stood and set it down on the table beside the bed to start tugging at the sheets again, patting them down.

Tessa scurried off the mattress and stood, waiting expectantly as I worked.

“Yes, bees. They make honey from flowers” it wasn’t entirely true but she didn’t need to know that. Her imagination was as wild an unruly as her hair and I could see the gears starting to turn behind her bright blue eyes. I continued to make the remaining two beds as she followed me.

“What’s honey?” I contemplated her question for a moment. She had never had honey herself and I had only had it once when Lady Harlow, the owner of the orphanage, had brought home some honey suckle for the kids as a treat. I bent down to pick her up underneath her arms, setting her down on the mattress that I had just finished making with her back to me.

“It’s only the sweetest, most delicious syrup in the whole, entire world” I replied, reaching for a brush that sat nearby on one of the night tables. She looked up at me with wonder in her innocent eyes. She was so precious, like most of the children at the orphanage and would most likely get adopted within a few weeks.

“Really? I want some honey!” she declared, so much determination swirling in her glassy gaze. I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on my lips as I turned her head so that she was staring straight ahead.

I began to section off her hair, being careful not to hurt her when I pulled the knots apart.

“I’m sure you’ll get to try it one day” I reassured her, using the brush to detangle her golden strands.

She barely made a sound while I worked, years of combing through knots having paid off, making me somewhat of an expert.

Two boys came barreling into the room, one older than the other and holding onto an old toy boat. I recognized them as being Andrew and Henry, the younger of course being the prior.

Henry was a short eight-year-old boy with dark hair and deep dimples around his mouth while Andrew was an older, taller boy around twelve with red hair and freckles. He was the trouble maker of the lot.

“Henry! Andrew! No running inside the house!” I scolded as Tessa scowled at the pair, annoyed by their loud bickering and laughing. Andrew held the toy boat above his head and out of Henry’s reach, letting the little boy jump in order to try and reach it. Eventually Henry gave up, turning to look at me with tears in his eyes.

“He won’t give me back my toy, big sister!” I stopped brushing, moving over to where Andrew was still snickering at the younger boy. He stopped laughing when I came to a stand-still in front of him, his face clouding with worry like he knew he’d done something wrong.

“Give it to me” I ordered, holding the hand that wasn’t wrapped around the brush out for him to place the boat onto my palm. He huffed but did as he was told.

I handed the toy back to Henry and turned to address Andrew when the dark haired boy ran off to go play, almost instantly cheering up.

“It’s not nice taking other people’s things” I stated to which he clasped his hands together behind his back and hung his head.

To the children I was their older sister but also someone who had authority because of me being seventeen so they would listen to me like they would to Lady Harlow.

“We have so little as it is” with him I could be more open, more honest about our current situation, about where we lived and why we were there to begin with. He understood what it meant to be an orphan and that things were harder for us, that we didn’t get toys and gifts like normal children would. Andrew nodded.

“Yes, big sister, I’m sorry” he looked at the floor but when I ran my fingers through his hair he looked up at me with confusion in his eyes. Why was I petting his head when I was supposed to be mad at him? I smiled a loving smile, one that calmed the kids no matter what the situation.

“Good, now why don’t you and Angus go and fetch some firewood for the stove?” I suggested.

His eyes began to glisten, adventure hidden in them at the mention of collecting firewood. He loved exploring and it would be the perfect opportunity for him to do just that.

“Alright!” he exclaimed and quickly scurried off to go find Angus so that they could go wondering near the forests and fields.

I returned to Tessa, running my fingers through her still somewhat messy hair as she huffed.

“Boys” she muttered, drawing a light laugh from my lips as I continued to brush then braid her hair, tying it off with a blue ribbon.

The days had turned into weeks that spilled into months of me receiving a mysterious yellow rose every seventh day. It would always appear on my bed or near a window where I was working. It made me feel somewhat excited, having a secret admirer who would leave flowers for me to find.

I was busy hanging the clothes out to dry when I heard a twig snap nearby. I turned and could see the top of a boy’s head, sticking out from in between the bushes.

The blonde hair gave him away but he didn’t know that I had spotted him yet. At first I thought it was just one of the boys from the orphanage trying to sneak up on me so I decided to play along, going back to my work and pretending like I didn’t know they were there.

I bent down to grab a shirt from the basket, shaking it a few times before I pinned it onto the line.

The boy slowly crawled his way around me, in the process allowing me to see that he was too finely dressed to be an orphan. He had on a white button up shirt, brown trousers with brown shoes and a brown jacket.

In his hand he held a yellow rose that he quickly dropped onto the grass near the basket of clothing before hurrying off. I turned to stare after him, my eyebrows furrowed up and my wet hands dangling at my sides, the silver of my anchor necklace biting into the skin at the base of my neck when small silver scales would start to form on my fingers and knuckles.

I came to know the boy as Douglas, the son of a nobleman who was around sixteen and had formed some sort of fascination with me.

The roses became more and more frequent until I could clump them together in a vase that sat in the middle of the large dining room table.

Tessa had told everyone of my admirer, including Lady Harlow and the rest of the women who would constantly tease me about it.

I was getting ready to head to the docks where the fisherman would have their catches on display when Lady Harlow caught me just as I was about to head out the front door with basket in hand and coins in my pocket.

“I hear that herring had been quiet common lately-.” she eyed the paper, her gaze narrowing as if to focus in on the small hand written words. She always looked for a good price to save money since we didn’t have much of it to begin with. Our money came from public donations and odd jobs that I or some of the older kids would do for the towns people.

“That means the price would’ve gone down” my hand was braced against the doorframe as I looked back at her. She was sat at the dining table, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

“Do try and buy some haring, dear” I could tell that she wasn’t just after the good price but because she had a craving for it. I gave a forced smile and nodded my head in agreement.

“I’ll try my best” with that I was gone, making my way down the busy streets as people hurried to get to their jobs and others went about their shopping.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Lady Harlow, it was just that I felt trapped in that stuffy orphanage and wanted to get out more often. I wanted to see the world but even I knew that was a farfetched dream.

The docks were lined with crates that were filled with iced fish as the fisherman sat on barrels waiting for the towns people to stop by on their way home.

I walked along the docks, eyes moving from one crate to the next. Lady Harlow was right, there was a lot of herring caught lately.

Near the end of the docks I stopped to talk to one of the men on their haring, shooting him a brilliant smile in the hopes that he would lower the price even more. He was telling me about the growing numbers of herring in the area when my eyes caught sight of a golden haired boy not too far from where I was. His green eyes were examining a white boat with a mix of excitement and wonder.

“I’ll take two” I interrupted, my head turning to once again address the fisherman. He went silent, nodding as he moved to wrap the fish in paper for me. He placed them in my basket then took the coins from my hand.

“Thank you, have a lovely day” I said before grabbing my basket, hoisting it up onto my arm as I began making my way towards the familiar boy. I froze when I noticed the finely dressed gentleman that stood near him, speaking to one of the dock workers about the white boat in question. He had chestnut brown hair and the same green eyes as Douglas with freckles littering his nose.

My mouth hung open slightly at the sight of him, he was so handsome and looked to be around my age. I decided that I would talk to Douglas with the hopes of catching the older man’s attention as well. The younger of the two didn’t notice me until I was stood beside him, clearing my throat.

“Hello, I just wanted to thank you for all your fine roses” Douglas gaped at me with wide eyes as if my touch to his shoulder had entranced him. He was about to attempt to speak when the older noticed me, handing the documents he had been going over to the worker as he excused himself to approach us.

“So that’s where mother’s roses have been disappearing too?” I stiffened at the sound of his voice, deep and charming like you would expect from such a finely dressed man.

I hoped that my hair wasn’t as much a mess as it usually was or that my breath didn’t smell bad.

The man turned to face me, a smile on his lips that made my heart flutter at the sight of it.

“Not that I blame you, she is rather pretty” he took me in, his eyes roaming over my face, down my body to my shoe clad feet. I stood there awkwardly fiddling with the skirt of my dress as he looked me over, not sure how to react to such a fine gentleman.

“Deacon Daughvis, Douglas’s older brother” he introduced himself, holding his hand out for me to shake in a rather professional way. I nervously tucked a stray strand of hair back behind my ear before taking his hand.

“Evangeline” I said as he shook my hand then let go to motion to the boat Douglas had been eyeing. I looked to it, the white painted wood with the word ‘Daughvis’ painted across the side in bright blue letters.

“Well, I would offer to take you out on our family boat but it would seem you have some place to be?” Deacon questioned, motioning to the basket that I clutched close to my side. I glanced down at the herring, contemplating whether it was as important as spending time with such a handsome man.

Tessa’s smiling face popped up in the back of my mind. She was most likely hungry from not having eaten anything in a while. Preparing the herring for dinner would be an all-day task.

“Yes, unfortunately I must prepare dinner” I politely declined, wanting to sigh but keeping it in. Deacon nodded, his hands folding neatly behind his back as he looked at me with all the charm in the world.

“In that case, would you perhaps like to join me sometime for lunch?” Douglas glared up at his older sibling as if he was oddly protective of me.

I was taken aback by his sudden request, asking me out on a date after only seconds of meeting me. I cleared my throat.

“It would be an honor, Mr. Daughvis" I tried to keep my composure, to not seem as though I was filled with sudden bursts of joy at the thought of something interesting happening for once in my life. Deacon smiled.

“Then I shall come fetch you throughout the course of the week?” he suggested. I made a mental note not to make anything too laboring for dinner for the rest of the week and agreed.

He excused himself to tend to the boat, readying it to be taken out onto the water while Douglas sulked by his side.

I turned and left, waiting until I was well out of sight to grin down at the street, my heart pounding in my chest at the thought of a nobleman taking a liking to me.