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A Pirate's Life for Me


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My mother was a whore. It's nothing to be ashamed of; she certainly wasn't, and neither am I. Everyone has to make a living, and she made one the old fashioned way.

She always told me that if she saved enough, she'd be able to send me to a boarding school where they would make a lady of me. She made it sound so glamorous, so mysterious. I saw the ladies in their fancy dresses and bustles, with their bows and ribbons, hats and parasols, and I wanted to be one of them so badly. They were beautiful. But thanks to my mothers profession, I learned very early on what men truly want from women, which was a striking juxtaposition from what they seemed to be when I saw them in the wealthier sections of town. I had trouble reconciling the image of the well-to-do lady I saw in town with what I saw my mother do through the keyhole. Then I heard the phrase, "a lady in the streets, a whore between the sheets," and it all made sense. We were decoration. We were not meant to be educated, useful, or skilled in anything other than what goes on in a bedroom. I knew that was not the life for me. Oh, don't get me wrong, I wanted to find out what could make a woman make those sounds. But when I did, I was going to do it because I chose to, not because someone paid or forced me to. 

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When I was fourteen, mother found opium and I got a job on the docks. It was terrible, but it was work that didn't care if I was man or woman, only if I could do what needed doing. I could, and I did. I made enough to support us both, or so I thought. When I was sixteen, I discovered mother's habit had landed her in debt. I could not earn enough to pay it off. Desperate times called for desperate action. I stole from a ship, just one sack of spices. It was enough to pay off mothers debt if I could sell it quickly. But I didn't even get off the docks. I was caught, my prize taken, and fifteen lashes as punishment. They cheered as the whip fell, and I cried, screamed, bled. I was bound and made to stand before them, half naked, bleeding, and then my hair was shorn off. 

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My mother died while I was locked up. As luck would have it, my jailors were incompetent and escape was easy. I wrapped my breasts tight so they would not show, found a ship, signed on as a cabin boy, and I was gone.

Freedom at last!

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As much as you can be stuck in a tropical paradise, I was stuck. I had no gear, no coin, nothing but the clothes on my back. My former crewmates had drugged me and tossed me ashore. My clothes, my sword, my pistols... my share of the treasure... everything was back aboard the Artemis. That left only my wits and charm. 

I walked along the beach. The sun was warm on my shoulders, the wind cool as it tugged at my hair. There was fruit in low trees just inside the tree line, and I ate until I my stomach no longer rumbled.  I found a stream and drank from the fresh water. I kept walking until I saw signs of civilization. I doubled back and washed in the shallow stream. I found a necklace among the stones in the streambed. It seemed a good omen. 

The settlement was larger than I expected. It appeared to be a small town. Along the shore I saw a bar. In the bar were men and women drinking. Where else was I going to go?

I slid onto a stool and was instantly offered a drink by the bartender, a beautiful young woman with almond shaped eyes and coffee-colored skin.

"New customers get one pineapple pinch for free," she said.

"Thank you," I said. I took a sip. It tasted like pineapple and rum mixed with sugar. "Delicious."

"Thanks," she said, wiping the bar down. "It's my own creation. I'm Zoe Sterling. This is my place."

"Corgen," I said. "Ember Corgen."

"Where you been hiding, Ember Corgen? Last ship made port three days back, and I'm pretty sure everyone aboard's already been in here."

"Ship went down," I said, nonchalantly. It was true. My ship had gone down before I signed on with the crew of the Artemis. "Got lucky that the tide was coming in and made it ashore."

Zoe stopped wiping the bar and stared at me, raising one eyebrow. "That's awfully lucky." She stared at me hard. I returned her gaze. I wasn't trying to hide anything other than that my crew had left me for dead. Finally she smiled at me.

I smiled back, raised my glass, and downed the rest of the drink.

"Well, Ember Corgen, it looks like your luck is holding. I have a soft spot for charity cases. You get two for free." She mixed another drink and slid it down the bar to me.

I wrapped my fingers around it, but didn't immediately drink. "Thank you," I said, giving her a genuine smile. 

"Need a place to stay?"

I looked around. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"You wouldn't be imposing, and this isn't charity." She leveled that hard stare at me again. "Any skills that would benefit the owner of a fine establishment like mine?"

I stared back, gave her a flirty look, bit my lower lip. I didn't want to say it, but if she was so inclined, I knew I could make this a night for her to remember.

Both of her eyebrows went up when she caught my look.

I didn't look away, just kept my flirty look on my face, a slight smile spreading as I hoped against hope that this would work.

"Girl, don't think you're getting off that easy," she said, laughing. "I've only got one bed. That was always going to be part of the deal."

It was my turn for my eyebrows to shoot up. "Presumptuous," I said, with a laugh.

"You want that warm bed tonight," she said, "serve some drinks. I guarantee I'll make it worth it."

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"You're Zoe's new plaything," she said with a cryptic smile. Her ears poked out from within her violet hair. An elf. I hadn't seen many elves since arriving at Blackstone Bay.

"Ember," I said flatly, not liking her terminology.

"Vallora," she said by way of greeting, then looked me up and down. "Maybe I'll buy you off her."

"Zoe doesn't own me," I said too defensively. 

"I insulted you. My apologies. An honest mistake." She looked down, then tried to explain. "It's just that I rarely see you out of her shadow."

"I enjoy Zoe's company," I said. "She's a friend."

"We should be friends," she said, twirling a loose strand of hair around one finger. "At least let me make it up to you."

Read that one wrong, I thought. I hadn't seen it as a pickup. I don't know how I missed that. 

"Let me treat you to dinner," Vallora said. "No strings, no expectations. Just me trying to show you my good side."

She leaned over the well, her breasts early spilling out of the bodice of her dress. She looked up at me, violet eyes sparkling, pleading, eyebrows quirked up, awaiting my response. 

I didn't need to get tied to anyone else here. I just needed to get off this island. But right now there was no ship, no way out. I was stuck here til someone arrived. More friends would be better than enemies. 

"Dinner sounds wonderful." I smiled, then had a thought and grinned playfully. "So you can show me your good side."

She sat on the edge of the well, her dress hiking up her thigh. "I'll show you whatever side you want," she said with a wicked grin, sliding her dress up even higher. Her eyes hinted at things mere mortals like me had never experienced. Then she hopped down and walked away, her laughter echoing after her.

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"Someday, I'll have my own ship," he said. Frédéric was a dreamer, but apparently we had similar dreams. He stared off at the horizon, but it seemed he was looking at something else.

"Well you've already got the fancy coat, so... on to step two."

He didn't react. There was something in his eyes that told me we were more alike that I thought. The silence stretched to discomfort.

"What are you running from?" I don't know why I asked that?. To fill the silence? I was still young, and thought everything was simple, black and white, good and bad, running from or running towards. 

"Who said I'm running?" He looked at me then. Those soulful eyes, that disarming smile, they hit me hard. I had heard of feeling butterflies, but... wow.

"I thought we all were," I said, looking away. I couldn't stand to look into those eyes. He'd have me naked below deck in no time if I didn't look away. "Everyone I talked to so far has something they're trying to get away from."

His gaze went back out to sea and he stared longer, as if trying to decide how to answer. Finally, he shook his head and laughed. "You're a gem, Ember."

"A gem?" I felt like he was talking down to me, as if I were a child. "I'm a pirate."

He looked at the sword he'd been sharpening where it lay across his lap, then at the knife I wore at my belt. He grinned as he looked between his blade and my dagger. He was the same as everyone else. They didn't take me seriously. I was the young girl who wanted to be a pirate, not one of them. 

I crossed my arms under my breasts and set my jaw. "I thought you were different."

"Ember," he said, still smiling. "You're no more a ruthless pirate than any of the people in that last port."

I glared at him, my hand going to the hilt of my dagger.

He laughed, loud and rich. "I'm sorry, Ember," he said. "You probably will be, one day. You've the fire. I see it in your eyes. But to do so, you'll have to work twice as hard, be twice as ruthless, and twice as careful as any man aboard this ship. And right now every one of them can easily best you in combat. For now, you're just a girl."

"I'm seventeen," I said, wanting to draw my dagger, wanting to stick it in his condescending guts. "I'm a woman."

"Really?" He looked at me again, his eyes filled with mirth. "Shouldn't you be married off by now?" His smile spread wide and I knew he was poking fun. It seemed to be in good humor, but I was still angry.

Under my breath I said, "I'm married to the sea, to the pirate life."

His smile changed then, some wall coming down, an edge coming off. "You're determined, Em. I admire that. One day you'll be the Queen of the Pirates."

I liked the sound of that. It eased my anger to know that he looked at me as more than just a girl. "When I am, I'll give you your own ship."

I laughed, and he did too, with me, not at me. It felt good. It felt like I was more than just Ember the Deckhand. I think that was the moment I fell for Frédéric de Bourbon.

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