Her father, he- he knew where she was? A glimmer of hope sparked in Alice's chest, even as the object of her terror paced in front of her. She hung her head slightly, pieces of black hair falling forward and obscuring her face. There was even a sense of embarrassment about her - she'd only ever looked like this in the morning, when she woke up. And now like this, in front of a man; a pirate no less. He hadn't said that he wouldn't hurt her. At least an older gentleman wouldn't hurt her. Why had she not listened to her father?

Alice watched Vic's every move, feeling completely and utterly helpless. But the word - borrowed? Was he planning on using her as a bartering chip? Oh, please. It had happened to one of her father's friends before - pirates had captured his ship while on the seas. A couple of months later, he was delivered home for an exchange of gold - skinny, dishevelled but alive. Her figure mattered little in comparison to her life.

The strength of his stare was frightening, and she glanced away. "I am Alice Rohan," she said. Although her voice trembled, it hadn't dropped in volume. She'd been trained in diction all her young life (those lessons were supremely dull). Was he now asking her to barter for her life? Alice had to think for a moment. What had she been taught in her life, that was actually useful? "I can... sew?" Her green eyes skipped down his clothing. She'd learned ladies' sewing, but it should be applicable enough to men's clothing - and far less complicated. 

It was getting a bit hard to breathe in the corset. What with the frantic beating of her heart, she was taking quick breaths - and they were shallow, too. A hand came to rest gently on her stomach area, below her chest. Alice averted her eyes as she concentrated on breathing.