Antonia listened without interruption to the First Mate's otherwise fantastical tale, sifting truth from fabrication as only a truly professional liar could. Even if Nicolette intended on taking her lovely man and the seemingly-awestruck helmsman for all the coin in their purses, the poor thing still had a tell, and it was a fairly brutal one. The spider's eyes saw the flutter of fingers to Nicolette's face, the forced tension as she pulled them away. A lifetime of cruelty witnessed filled in all the blank spaces that mattered in the rest of that tale.

So had it been [i]"la putain?"[/i] Or perhaps [i]"la pute?"[/i] Maybe even [i]"la poufiasse"[/i] or simply [i]"la prostituée?"[/i] It didn't matter really, the result was entirely the same: Mademoiselle Beauchamp's loyal service and dedicated work had been betrayed by a man - or far more likely [i]men,[/i] after seeing the woman fight - in the crew she once trusted. 

Antonia, the woman beneath the rogue, the spider, the thousands of masks - [i]that[/i] woman could feel for the First Mate's plight, see far better now the source of her often grim, tight-lipped and humorless ways. But she was wise enough to let it be, and even kind enough to wish the woman well in whatever game she played this night with her captain and her helmsman.

The rogue plucked a tangerine from the pile of fruits at the tray, leaning back in her chair as her fingers ran lightly over the slightly waxy, aromatic skin. She adored the luxury, the tangy sweet richness of the flesh, and the bitter oils of the rind in her wine. Ah yes, their helmsman who, it seemed, was far more at home aboard a ship than sandwiched so precariously between two women. The only response Jax's new offer of employment elicited for a single heartbeat, was the lift of one vaguely amused, slightly incredulous eyebrow.

And then Antonia set the tangerine in the cradle of skirts in her lap, both hands reaching behind her head to deftly lift the lengths of ebony curls. 

"Jozua. Arie. [i]Xander.[/i]" Every word of his given name was punctuated with warm, salty promise, a Caribbean breeze ripe with fragrant spices, the rocking of wave after lapping wave and the most exotic fruits a man would ever know. Those grey eyes never left Jax's face as she braided the lengths loosely in just a moment over one shoulder, all the better to display the subtle curve of her slender neck, her supple shoulders and the perfect, inviting shadow of a path between those firm rounded hillocks he seemed to admire so much.

As she lay the thick rope of hair aside, the long, slender fingers of one hand traced the line to her collarbone, and then dipped down back into the crevice of her cleavage, as if she wondered whether Jax might like to see the wares a little better before making a final decision about finalizing her new employment.

But when those fingers emerged, a small, thin-bladed knife was held almost delicately, its razor edge flashing lethal silver in the candles' glow. She rolled its handle easily between the tips of her fingers, lackadaisically as she leaned forward once more, the tangerine returned to her other hand.

[i]"Jozua."[/i]

[i]"Arie."[/i]

[i]"Xander... "[/i]

With every word, the blade sliced across the small, delicate fruit in her hand, skin thick and no more, making a tiny star on its surface that only just released the first hint of the its oils. Antonia breathed deeply, smiling with satisfaction as the aroma greeted her nostrils.

"Too bad really, 'tis a lovely name that flows from the tongue like cream. But if you prefer 'Jax?'" Antonia pouted prettily, as if such a thing truly mattered to her. "No, not nearly so nice - too harsh, I say. But as you will [i]of course[/i]."

"And you offer me new employment as well? Oh, I'm afraid I already serve at the will of our captain here." The blade she set neatly in front of her on the table, as if it were simply another bit of cutlery, no matter its true origin. 

"But what do you think, Captain Silver Fish?" she quipped with a sidelong gaze toward Thomas, neatly peeling the tangerine skin from the fruit, squeezing the pieces of skin over her own cup of wine before setting them aside. "With my limited skills and usefulness, I might yet prove of some utility aboard the [i]Skate[/i] as wet nurse to Jax here. Could I be spared for the task? Although I imagine suckling the helmsman while he steers would be nightmarish - perhaps we could fix something up with ropes, pulleys... Suspend me bare-breasted from the rigging perhaps?"

Antonia smiled widely, only just peeling her tangerine into sections, popping one easily into her mouth. The smoldering fire in those grey eyes though, said something not [i]entirely[/i] at odds with the mirth on her full lips, but with the full and true intent of her words that she felt sure Thomas would read just fine: 

[i]'How angry would you be with me, if we were short one helmsman by the morning?'[/i]