Thomas closed his eyes at Antonia’s first presses against the muscles of his shoulders and neck. The stress that seemed to melt free with each new touch of her fingers brought a welcoming sense of clarity to a mind marred with alcohol and a lack of sleep. As she began to whisper into his ear, Thomas’ eyes opened slowly, the copper iris’ starring distantly across the Parakeet as she spoke.

He let out a quiet sigh, she spoke truly. Thomas was being too hard upon the first mate and the sea-artist. Whatever their reasoning, his expectation to be treated as just another member of the crew was too lofty a goal. That realization brought another sigh from his lips, as a part of him longed for the simplistic joy of just being a sailor once again. There was a familiar romanticism to being high in the rigging, releasing sails, and balancing upon the spars, without any further care than the task at hand and the gold promised at the end of the horizon. 

Thomas forced that thought from his mind, as it was nothing more than a passing fancy. A smile came to his lips with Antonia’s teasing about him longing for a kiss from Nicolette or Jax. He did not reply, instead reaching behind him to pinch her thigh, which was more like a gentle squeeze through the thick folds of her skirts. 

He looked to his First Mate as he noticed her rise partially from her chair, and then abruptly resume her seat. When she spoke, her tone made his brows rise in surprise, and his manner evolved into one of apology. 

“Please, Madame,” he said with a slight wave of his hand, “be at ease. I sit before you as a captain at the behest of no king, and I do not require such formal address.”

Though his voice and expression spoke to a manner of reconciliation, he had no intention of withdrawing his disappointment fully, and thusly he offered no apology. Antonia’s words were a potent elixir, but not a soul alive possessed speech required for Thomas to completely rescind his natural inclinations. 

Thomas looked now to Jax. “I assure you that your evening has not been in vain, the weight of your purse notwithstanding. I have brought you all here because among my crew you are the most paramount to the [i]Skate’s[/i] success upon the high seas, and your stake in this coming matter bears your opinion to be heard.”

He brought his hands into his lap, and looked between all three of them. “As you well know, these are the months that the Spanish treasure fleets sail from New Spain to Havana, and thence on to Cádiz. We also know that attacking the fleet is nothing short of suicide, for their numbers are too vast, and their cannon much too plentiful.”

At this comment, the corners of Thomas’ mouth creased to a frown. “Now, some weeks back, you may recall a hurricane that passed through the northern Windward Passage. We were at the southern expanse of its fury, and thusly bore little harm from it, but…” Thomas leaned forward, his expression brightening. “There was a Donnish treasure ship, sailing amongst the fleet, which did not receive such favorable treatments.”

“We have it on good authority,” Thomas said without looking to Antonia, “that this ship was spotted aground within the Serrana Islands, east of Guatemala. As of now, we four are the only known people in Port Royal capable of grasping this opportunity.”

His eyes looked to each of them in turn. “The task is daunting, but the rewards would be unimaginable. What say you?”