Against the sky, a womanly figure is standing on a yardarm, wearing suggestive clothing that seems to resemble a Western-Victorian prostitute; a tight, long-sleeved, ivory-colored corset dress with a matching mini-skirt, displaying a slight pink-lace floral detail, and a matching attached organza bustle in the back. She also appears to be wearing black lace-trimmed thigh high stockings, a black choker, and black calf-high heeled boots. Her chest-lengthed, wavy-curled brown-black hair blew in the wind as she gazed out with keen-eyes at a ship that's looming in the approaching harbor. 

Her attention was eventually drawn to something below, and she leaped from the yardarm to the rigging, and into the foot of water, which appears to be filling the hull of her small fishing dory. Sloshing through floating net buoys, she picked up a bucket, and started tossing the water back into the ocean. As soon as she was about to pass what seems to be skeletal remains of three pirates hanging from a gallows on a rocky promontory, she immediately stopped what she was doing. Giving the deceased some honor, she tossed a silver shilling into the water to pay her respects. Seeing a fourth, unoccupied noose, it beared a sign: "PIRATES - YE BE WARNED". This didn't phase her and she acknowledged it with a nod. 

The harbor is bustles with activity. The people began to gaze at the strange woman on top of the crow's nest while the boat itself has sunk completely. Stepping nonchalantly onto the dock, the mystery woman just strolled right past the harbormaster. "What? Hold up there, you", he called to her in a patronizing manner, making the young woman halt in her steps and swiftly turn back around to walk back to him. "It’s a shilling to tie up your boat to the dock", he told her, before she casted a dubious glance back towards the sunken boat's mast. "And I shall need to know your name", he added before opening the ledger. Smiling coyly, she took three shillings from her pouch, and tossed them onto the ledger. "What do you say to three shillings, and we forget the name?", she spoke to him in a cool, innocent-like tone in her apparent Swedish-accented voice, which sounded distinctively low and powerful. 

The Harbormaster considers this as he shuts the ledger. "Welcome to Port Royal, Ms. Smith", he welcomed her before quickly moving off. She acknowledged the welcome, moves past the Harbormaster's desk, and spots a small money bag sitting on top of it. She picked up the bag to shake it. Pleased to hear the rattle of coins, she pockets it and moves on off the dock. 

British soldiers march into the courtyard of the fort, with steel drums sounding as well as trumpets. Taking their places, Elizabeth, in the crowd, was cooling herself off with her paper fan. Next to her, was her eighteen-year old cousin, Abigail Ashe, who was the daughter of Lord Peter Ashe from the town of Carolina. Since this ceremony was only for the higher class, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Abigail wasn't wealthy. Younger and a bit smaller than Elizabeth, she was just a beautiful, young woman.