[Vereena]
As I stood there with my mouth gaping open, staring at the door that was now locked after the captain had left, completely speechless. Still not believing what had just transpired, I was still very naked on his bed with only a piece of blanket wrapped around my body.
"Did he just call me beautiful?" I mumbled to myself upon recalling the last word he said, but it was in no way even close to being considered flattering. He also called me a foul-mouthed which I solely blame him for causing me to behave in such an unladylike manner.
My stomach grumbled again loudly, breaking me out of my trance, and then I remembered him saying he would send someone for my food. I exaggeratedly scrambled myself out of bed and started looking for my clothes, but I couldn't find where he had put them. I randomly opened the chests, rummaging through their contents in vain, hoping that I would of finding any decent clothes I could wear.
Most of them contain trinkets, gold necklaces, and many shiny gems I am not interested in. Until then, I finally found a pair of trousers and a shirt with long sleeves. It wasn't a dress for the woman, and it certainly wasn't one that I would have chosen for myself, but I didn't have a choice.
I held it up, scrutinizing the fabric with such distaste. I have never worn trousers in my entire life, much less this kind of poorly made shirt. I was always donned with all the fine silks and lavish gowns. I like it very much when I walk down the foyer and have my skirt ruffles about my ankle and gives the sensation that I am floating through the air.
But this?
Oh, if Mrs. Charlotte were to see me wearing this, I'm very sure she'd pass out cold.
I lowered the shirt, sniffed it, and braced myself for an awful smell. Much to my surprise, however, the shirt didn't smell unpleasant at all. It appears as though it had been stashed away in this chest quite some time ago and gone forgotten.
Breathing out exaggeratingly, I do not have the luxury of choosing what I will wear based on my personal preferences. I wasn't on the mainland, and certainly, the pirates wouldn't care even if I done up some rags. For all I know, they much preferred me in this blanket. Therefore, without any hesitance, I dressed myself in the shirt and the pants, both of which, regrettably, were far too large for my petite frame. I had to tie the pants around my waist with a knot, and the sleeves of the shirt had to be folded up to my elbows.
I look at myself in the foggy reflection of the mirror, I see not a lady but a disheveled lass who has been cast out of her family's house. My long, wavy hair was in a complete state of disarray, and it looked like a bird's nest framed around my face.
This isn't Lady Vereena Braxton of House MacGhille. This is a girl from nowhere who has absolutely no idea where and who she is.
A knock suddenly pounded on the door, startling me to my feet, and I almost lost my balance with these sea legs of mine. Fortunately, I quickly held myself steady by gripping the nearest table I could reach before the door opened.
"Aye there, lass, the captain wants you to have this."
A stout-looking man with a scruffy white beard wearing a black bandana on his head and a grimy apron came to view.
He must be Eulisses, the one that the captain mentioned earlier about bringing me food.
I stare down at his appearance. He had bulky big, hairy arms, a pronounced aquiline nose that was disproportionately large for his face, and he was missing one of his front teeth. I also noticed his apron, it should be white, but it seems that it had never been washed since the day it was worn, turning the color into brown and gray. He appeared to be holding something that resembled a pot but was covered in soot. Nevertheless, I am not certain if it was in fact a pot. It was like a big chunk of coal as I stared at it. Though it was obviously hot since he was wearing a pair of dirty mittens.
"What is this?" I faltered in bemusement, staring at the thing he was holding.
"Your food, lass," he replied, lifting something on top, and a stream of steam swirled, revealing a green bubbling soup and the undiscernible aroma wafted into the air. My eyebrows immediately lifted as I held my breath, glaring skeptically at the big chunk of soot that was on his hand.
"You mean to tell me this is food?" I gaped at him in disbelief, hoping he was just kidding around, calling this innocuous thing food.
However, what I said seemed to have offended him as his face contorted into a sneer. His big nose scrunching distastefully as he glared at me.
"Are'ya trying to insult me, lassie?" He bleated, his lips curling with anger as he shoved me out of his way using his elbow, marched inside the quarters, and put the pot into the table, careful to put the mittens underneath so the soot won't stain the wood.
Then he swiftly turns around, glaring at me with his face flustering red, aggressively pointing his fingers in my direction and vociferating pretty loudly. "I cooked this nasty food you're calling!"
The abrupt nature of his response left me speechless for a few seconds. My mouth gaped at him as he continued to fume.
"Oh, right…I'm sorry…thank you," I stammered, blinking out from my daze as I apologized, feeling terrible for offending him.
Though it seems too late, Eulisses appeared to be really hurt.
"Hmmph, you! Ungrateful little wench!" He hollered, tossing his hands into the air incandescently, and stumped his way out to the door.
"No, I mean…."
I tried to follow him and apologize one more time, but he slammed the door shut right on my face.
"Oh, heavens, why couldn't I just shut my mouth?" I let out a regretful sigh, feeling sorry for what I said as my shoulders fell, and then I divert my focus to the hot pot that is covered in soot and try to contemplate its contents while I peek into it a little bit.
It really looks awful, and it smells of a moth-eaten potato that was discarded a month ago. But my stomach protested again, gnawing on my insides and demanding food.
"This looks edible. I hope it is. I don't want to die having a bad stomach," I whispered to myself and gingerly picked up the ladle that floated inside.
Oh dear heavens, I pray this doesn't taste as awful as it looks.