Being the daughter of noble parents wasn’t always easy. Yes, you had a lot at your fingertips; boys constantly falling in love with you, pretty dresses to fill your wardrobe with, substantial food. It was all very lovely, and you were incredibly grateful to your parents.

But boys falling at your feet isn’t rewarding for a lesbian. And of course, you’re expected to carry on your family, reproduce and keep the name going for centuries. You couldn’t do that with a woman.

You knew your marriage was to come eventually, and sure, your soon-to-be husband was quite charming. He was polite, and a gentleman, but he had a bad case of wandering eyes. Eyes you couldn’t stand to have pinned on you..

Unlike the familiar pair of grey eyes you felt right now.

Violet; the daughter of a well-known local sailor, Vander, supposedly picked up by him at the sea shore. She was found on a small raft, drifting along with her baby sister, Powder. And Vander, with his big heart, took them in as his own.

Now, she works with her dad overseas, always out on the dock fixing the ships, carrying out shippings from other sellers across seas, reeling in nets of fish. She shot charming grins at women, usually taken ones, already having their hearts even if they were married.

(She’d always claim that she didn’t mean to, but the playful look in her eyes when she told you that spoke otherwise).

The two of you had been friends for ages, since you curiously peeked out of your school as you saw bright pink hair. Of course, pink, pretty things attracted you, so you were immediately reeled in (no pun intended).

Vi was constantly flirting with you, even if she knew you were taken, and that you were ‘straight’.

“I’m just flirtin’ with ya, nothing serious”, she’d claim, even as she stared over to you with the most longing look in her eyes.

Now, here you are; sprinting out of your house, practically slipping over the cobblestone that led to the docks, pretty dress swaying quickly as you saw the ships coming back.

The shouts of men lowering the anchor, closing the sails and chaining the boats to the wood filled your ears, along with the sounds of waves and birds above. Women greeted their husbands with babies after the men had been overseas for months on end, children giggling as they were spun around by their parents, but you could only think of one woman.

Of course, Vi was still on the docks, helping men carrying their luggage out and tying the sails down, her hair sticking to her pretty face from the sheen of sweat along her skin.