"Nicer to my breasts than me"

Prince Felipe really hadn't left me out of his sight. I was standing in the lines formed around the ceremony, watching the generals marching, while prince Felipe was talking about his life in the castle.

"You will love it of course. Everything is done for you!" he explained to me. I rolled my eyes. His hand was on my back, and his eyes were, in other words, focused on the area placed a little lower than my face. I couldn't believe this is what Agnes wanted me to marry, and it's even more terrible that my father approves of it.

"I'm sure" I said, bored and uninterested. He didn't seem to notice. He lead me to the table we shared with my family, and his mother and brother. They too looked like him, expensive and...stiff. Unreal. His mother had no wrinkles. She looked like a painting. I immediately felt childish and less attractive next to her. I wondered what she did to make her skin so smooth. She was maybe 40 years old and still was more beautiful than I will ever be. What else was it do expect of a queen? His brother was younger than him, and me. He looked even more uncounterable and bored than I was. He scratched the big wig on his head, looking like he was going to rip it of any second now. Boy please, try a corset.

"Prince Felipe-" Agnes started with a high-pitched voice. She was leaning forward a little, exposing her forced cleavage. Now I started to wonder if she was going to steel prince Felipe from me, maybe leave my father and become queen. At least it was how she behaved. Please, feel free Agnes, I would gladly let you have prince Felipe.

"Oh please, call me Antonio" he insisted.

"Of course, Antonio" she giggled. Ew. "I'm sure there is laying a wonderful future ahead, for you and Felice."

"I think so too" he complied, giving my breast area another glance.

"I think it's only right that she soon travels with us back to the Spanish empire" his mother announced. I could already tell I didn't like her.

"What?" I asked. Prince Felipe, I would rather not call him Antonio, faced me.

"I think so too. You should learn everything you need to know before the wedding." Wait what? One moment we were talking about his life in the castle, and in the next, we were already planning the wedding. I have to admit, it was kind of impressive. But still, what the bloody hell.

I looked at Agnes and his mother, the queen. Every muscle in their face was flexed, and their eyes were daggers. I'm sure they would get along. This was all about business and alliances. I knew there would be punishment if I turned him down. Always say yes to a man. It echoed back and forth in my head. I looked at my father, helpless. My mouth opening and closing a few times, not sure what I should say. He smiled. He was happy and for a brief moment, I thought I saw the same spark he had a long time ago when my mother still was alive, in his eyes. The wrinkles by his eyes and mouth got clearer as he smiled. He was older than Agnes. 10 years, maybe more. I looked down at my hands that were folded in my lap under the table.

"Yes"

"Ahh, splendid" prince Felipe said, and turned back to my family. He raised his glass, containing some kind of expensive alcohol.

"Let's make a toast" he said, looking at me. "For a bright future with my coming wife" The rest around the table did the same. I couldn't believe I would spend the rest of my days traveling from one prison, to another. His mother was cold. His brother kept sending my dirty glances. And him? I didn't even know where to start.

"Uhm, I have to go to the restroom" I said, stood up, and stormed off, leaving them behind me.

When I got to the restroom, I smacked the door behind me. There was a small, round mirror above the gold-covered sink. Everything was so luxurious and expensive. I could only imagine Felipes' bathroom was even fancier than this. I got filled with rage. Most of it directed to my father. How could he not see how miserable I was with all of this? Of course, I was flattered that a real prince wanted me, but my father of all people should know what I wanted. I couldn't breathe properly, both due to the corset and an incoming anxiety attack. Everything had happened so fast, in a blink of a second. It was almost like a dream. Or more like a nightmare. My hands took a firm grip around the edge of the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. Was this really going to happen? My eyes met mine in the reflection of myself. My breath was heavy. My lungs were desperate for air. Suddenly, the door opened, and a tall, blonde girl stormed in. I looked at her. She was beautiful. Straight up beautiful, and sad. She looked at me, and I felt short and extremely hideous. I've never felt less flattering my entire life. Unlike her beautiful, creamy dress, I was forced to but on the latest dress in nowadays fashion. But it wasn't flattering at all. It had short, puffy sleeves. It was bigger than any other dress here, with the strongest floral pattern I had ever seen. The big skirt was yellow, and the top was pink. It made me stand out, and I'm still not sure in a good or bad way. The beautiful girl looked down at the ground, embarrassed.

"Uh, sorry I didn't know anyone was in here."

"No no, it's ok. My fault I didn't lock the door" She looked up at me. I could see she was a little younger than me, which made me feel extremely insecure due to the fact she was both taller and prettier than me. When I looked closer, I noticed her brown eyes being puffy. And red. So was her nose.

"Hey, are you ok?" I asked her, carefully. She looked me in the eyes, debating what she was supposed to answer.

"I- I don't know" she said. "Sorry, I'm not used to people actually asking." I smiled.

"That, I can relate to" I actually did know what she meant. "Don't say you're fine. I can see your not" She walked past me, and looked at herself in the mirror.

"I don't know anymore. I just feel so...trapped somehow"

"Like you can't breath" I continued. She looked at me in the mirror.

"Yeah. And this stupid corset doesn't make it better." She chuckled.

"First time?" I asked, and she nodded. It got silent for a while. We just looked at our reflections. Suddenly she twisted around, facing me, and held out her hand for me to shake.

"Elizabeth Swann" she introduced herself.

"Aah, Elizabeth Swann. I'm Felice Bonny" I took her hand. "I believe our fathers know each other"

"Felice?"

"Yeah, that's me"

"Wow, I heard you and your family were coming but I didn't expect to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from my father."

"Only good I hope" What could she possibly have heard about me?

"Yeah, he told me how good of an artist you are. I've heard you are amazing at art, and that you play the piano"

"Yeah, I used to. Not anymore." It was a long time ago. I started painting because of my mom. She actually used to paint too. It often went in the same. The ocean, the sky. Basically landscapes. I remember watching her paint while having picnics on the beach, with me. I learned a lot from her. But then, she was gone. And I guess I changed. I couldn't find inspiration anymore. It was my father that got me into music. I still played a little, but not to anyone but myself.

"Oh" she looked at me. I leaned my back to the wall.

"So, who are you hiding from?" I asked her.

"What?"

"Why else are both of us here?" She sighed.

"Norrington" She pinched the bridge of the nose.

"Ooh, I heard you guys are getting married. Trouble in paradise?"

"I heard we're getting married too. He hasn't even asked me yet. I heard it from my father. Not much of a paradise" I laughed.

"So that's why your hiding. You don't want to get married" I figured out.

"Not at all. Don't get me wrong, he is a gentleman. But-"

"-He's boring"

"Very" We laughed.

"And there is another man" I continued, testing how far she would let me dig. Testing the limits.

"How did you know?" she was shocked but didn't seem to mind me digging.

"I can see it in your eyes sweetheart. Your eyes are filled with love. Apparently not for the general" I teased. "And does this lucky man have a name?" She smiled shyly. "Come on, I'm not judging." I continued.

"Will"

"Hm, I don't know any Will's. Well, I do know a very old year man named Will, but I really doubt that's him. He's not very nice." She laughed, and I'm glad I could make her feel better. One of my better qualities, besides being mean.

"No. He's a friend of mine. Will Smith. He's a blacksmith"

"Ohh I get it. Forbidden love" she nodded. "Well that's definitely not boring" well, I'm jealous. The closest I had ever been a relationship, was when I was younger and tried to kiss my crush Tyler. It didn't end well. Well, now I'm getting married to... that Felipe prince. He's definitely not a gentleman.

"But of course, that could never happen. And do not forget Norrington"

"Ahh, either the boring gentleman, of the handsome, strong blacksmith. Hard choice, I see" Even her laugh was beautiful. Urg, shoot me.

"My father"

"There's always the father" Of course. Every father is totally clueless. Or just straight-up dumb.

It got quiet.

"What about you. You're hiding too"

"Same problem. Minus the good-looking blacksmith of course" I admitted. She looked happier.

"And who are the lucky gentleman?"

"Prince Antonio Bernardo Felipe the 5th, heir to the Spanish empire. Definitely not a gentleman," I said, mimicking him while pronouncing his names. She cringed.

"Oh. Well. He's nice" she tried.

"Yeah, nicer to my breasts than me. He is looking forward to his future with them"

"Oh" she tried holding back her laugh.

"Which apparently is soon. Very soon"

"How soon?"

"I don't know. Maybe a week or so. I hadn't met him until today, never even heard of him, and he, his mother and my stepmother are already planning our wedding and when I will be moving to his castle" I felt my eyes beginning to tear up, but I managed to stop it as soon as they started to form. It was a special talent of mine, blocking my tears. I truly couldn't remember the last time I had cried. It was probably in the hands of Agnes. I've gotten pretty good at it. Putting a mask on, that is.

"Wow. That's terrible."

"Nah, it's okay. Apparently it's every woman's dream to marry a prince and live with no privacy at all" I shook my sadness off and covered it with some sarcasm.

"And I guess that's not your dream?"

"Not the slightest. I want to live on the beach. On an island. In a small house. Near a small town where everybody knows each other" She, who had turned back to the mirror fixing her hat, looked at me

"An island?"

"Yes indeed. Truth is, I haven't seen the beach in maybe…" I started counting in my head. "15 years?" I said, embarrassed.

"What? 15 years?" she exclaimed shook.

"15 years" I confirmed.

"But how? You're from Kingston, right?"

"We live far away from any beach or dock. After my mother died, my father closed me off from the rest of the world. I've actually never traveled this far."

"But why couldn't you just, like, go see the ocean?" she asked confused. I looked her in the eyes.

"My mother drowned"