“No,” said Luce bluntly. “I won’t do it. You’ve got to be joking.” He stared at the attire laid out on the bed before him. The thought of putting it on made him squeamish. Did Darryl really expect him to put that on?

“No, I’m not joking Luce,” Darryl replied. “And I thought you were serious about this.”

“I am serious about this,” Luce insisted, “But it’s a dress for heavens’ sake.”

“Yes, Luce, I do realize that it’s a dress,” Darryl retorted.

“And a corset too,” Luce added.

“Thank you, again, for stating the obvious,” Darryl said. “Now what’s the problem?”

“I think the problem is quite obvious, cousin,” Luce ground out. “I am a man. I hope you don’t really think that I will actually wear this.” He pointed to the offending silk and lace. “I don’t even know how to put this on, much less actually wear it.”

Luce cautiously eyed the garments laid out on the bed. There was a sea green gown edged with black lace, a matching corset, except this time the corset was black and the lace was sea green. Elbow-length silk gloves of the same sea green of the dress and studded with black onyx at the cuffs.

Highly uncomfortable indeed. Not to mention itchy. All that lace was going to be hell!

“I beg to differ cousin,” Darryl replied irritatedly. “You actually look more like a boy. And from afar, you look like a woman. I dare you to deny this.” He crossed his arms and gave Luce a hard stare.

It was unneeded. It wasn’t like Luce could deny it. He knew the sad, sad truth after all. He’d known it all his life: he did look like a woman. More so than most women themselves!

“Is there any other way?” he asked, desperate for something, anything.

Darryl shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we have to work to our advantage, and this is it.” He paused. “Its a pretty good disguise actually. As a woman, you can get into places men can’t. But as a beautiful woman—as you are cousin,” he added with a smirk, “—you will be able to go into places some people only dream of.”

Luce arched a brow dubiously. “Oh? And these places are where exactly?”

“Beds”

“Beds?” Luce parroted in confusion.

“Yes, beds,” Darryl answered. “But not just any beds, but the beds of important people who know what you want to know.”

“NO!” Luce yelled. “Are you mad!? There is no way in HELL that I am going to bed with another man! It’s just not possible! I can’t believe you even suggested it!”

“Who said you had to go to bed with another man?” Darryl asked. “All you’ve got to do is seduce him into a secluded corner, let him cop a feel here and there, ply him loose with a little wine and there! All the information you need. You don’t even have to bed him either.”

Luce had to admit; it was a pretty good plan. Hell, it as a brilliant plan. If only it didn’t involve him cutting off his circulation by putting on a dress and corset and trying to seduce disreputable blackguards from every walk of life.

If only.

“Is this the only plan we’ve got?” he asked, grasping for straws.

“No, actually,” Darryl matter-of-factly, “we’ve got two other options, both which are of repulsive to you. The first being we continue to hide you in only a cloak and mask as a poor excuse for a disguise while you hunt down the most notorious pirate ship on this side of the world’s hemisphere, where it is a high possibility that you could get yourself killed

“Or we could do two, which is for you to call off this whole charade and live your whole life in guilt and regret at being unable to truly find out what happened to the talented Isabella, all because you were mentally unable to accept the fact that yes, you must wear a dress,” Darryl said all in one breath.

“Is there a fourth option?” Luce said weakly, his resistance crumbling.

Darryl shook his head no. Luce sighed, resigning himself to his fate. This wasn’t for him. This was for Isabella. Finding out what really happened to her was the least he could to for him and her memory.

He picked up the lacy corset dubiously. It looked highly uncomfortable. “How do you put this on then?”

Darryl smugly plucked it out of his hands.

“Leave that to me.”

Half an hour later, after much pulling, crimping, complaining, and not a little sweat and probably more than a little blood, the deed was done.

“I…can’t…breathe,” Luce said laboriously. “Bloody Hell! How do women actually wear these?!” he leaned against the wall near the mirror, out of breath.

“I take it back,” Darryl said, slumping against the foot of the bed. “You are definitely not a woman.”

“You think?” Luce replied sarcastically. “Of course I’m not a woman you dolt.” He paused momentarily to catch his breath once more. “What made you realize?”

“Even the ugliest woman has more curves than you do,” Darryl said bluntly. “Pulling on those damn corset strings until my hands bled just to give you some semblance of femininity isn’t worth it.”

“Shut up,” Luce said annoyed. “Why don’t you wear it then? This was your idea. I can’t bloody breathe!”

Darryl pierced him with an exasperated look. “You want to find her right?” Luce nodded. “Then wear it.” He stood slowly.

“But you just said--”

“Never mind what I just said!” Darryl exclaimed. “We’ve got to get a move on. The night is only for so long. All those pirates your so obsessed with will be gone from the taverns by dawn.”

“Alright then,” Luce said, still unable to breathe. “Help me up. I can’t breathe, much less walk.”

Darryl complied. Looping Luce’s arm through his, he led them to the large mirror that took up almost the left half of the wall, floor-to-ceiling. They stared at Darryl’s masterpiece.

“I’ve got to say Dare,” Luce said in amazement. “When you were pulling those corset strings, I thought you were going to kill me. It was bloody painful, but you’re really good at this.”

“Tell me about it,” Darryl breathed. He couldn’t quite stare himself. Luce was the picture of feminine innocence—even if he wasn’t female. His cheeks were flushed from exertion and his eyes sparkling and a little glassy. It gave him a look of vulnerability that Darryl knew few men would be able to resist. Besides, those same men didn’t need to know that this look was all caused by an overly strung corset and not because of their romantic advances.

He checked his watch. “We’ve really got to go,” he said to Luce who seemed to finally get a hang of breathing. At least he wasn’t turning blue. “I’m going to get dressed myself.”

“You’re coming with me?” Luce asked, genuinely surprised. He hadn’t known that Darryl would be accompanying him.

“Of course silly.” Darryl looked at him affronted. “You didn’t really think I would let you do this alone did you?”

Luce shook his head. “It’s not that. Its just I never thought you’d be coming with me.”

“You’re so naïve. You really are young,” Darryl muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “I would never leave a beautiful maiden such as your self in the hands of dastardly pirates!”

“How’s the corset?” Darryl asked during Luce’s only break for the night.

“As long as I lean back only slightly and sit was straight as possible, I think I’ll be fine,” was the weary reply.

They were both sprawled in the opulent Master bedroom of the notorious Madame Spider, each drinking a much-needed tumbler of brandy. Who would’ve thought that two of the most sought after bachelors on the whole of Port Royal would be spending their time here, one dressed as an alluring woman and the other dressed as a waiter? All because of Darryl’s rather ‘useful connections.’

Madame Spider, a red haired, blue-eyed voluptuous vixen, was infamous throughout the island’s lascivious Underworld. It was rumored that she’d bedded almost every single male with a government position, a title, or whose yearly income exceeded one hundred thousand pounds per year. It was also rumored that she knew each and every one of their secrets. How in the world Darryl would know her—and quite intimately for that matter—was beyond anything Luce could even think of.

However, all of that was irrelevant to their cause. For what they really came for was the Madame’s wealth of information. Because not only did she know the secrets of all of Port Royal’s most important males, but she also knew the secrets of their enemies.

Madame allowed only the most influential, the most powerful, and the richest to enter her establishment. And influential, powerful, and rich men from distant lands were of no exception. If the Pirate Captain Crossbones were to anchor anywhere into Port Royal, she would know about it.

It had already been three nights since they’d started. It was only a matter of time now, Luce could feel it. Just a little while more and he’d be able to find closure over Isabella’s death. Maybe when he found out what really happened to her, he wouldn’t blame himself anymore. Maybe.

If only Captain Crossbones would come faster.

--

i have only one thing to say: I LOVE BALL GOWNS. on other people anyways. i have this thing for Regency england in the 1800s, where they had to wear these beautiful, elaborate ball gowns. they just seem so pretty to me that i couldnt help but let my imagination run wild. and seeing as they're on an island surrounded by the sea, i went for a sea green dress. i like the sea green contrast with the black. its very...CLASHING to me.

i hope you don't mind that i just rambled on an on about the dress. i promise, i'll do it no more than 5 times, or even less for that matter! i just have a thing for ball gowns. and the GOTHIC LOLITA look. well, its not like we can control our fetishes.

--Enigmatic Empress.

p.s., the 22nd is my sweet sixteen! wish me a happy birthday??