Jacob kept an eye on the figure. He didn't let his eyes wander for one inch, in fear that the intruder would try something tricky. The silence in the room was nearly unbearable. His jaw hurt from how tight he was clenching it, purely out of anger. He waited and almost leaned forward, impatient for an answer. Suddenly, he heard a soft sigh, and even more remarkably, he heard a sorry. Why was the thief apologizing? Jacob then realized something he should have realized a long time ago. There was long hair. Was this a girl?
Jacob's jaw slowly dropped, and he lowered his cutlass. At this point, he was more curious than he was angry. His emotions shifted like the flip of a switch. Something filled him with discomfort as he recognized the voice, then the hair, and, eventually, the face. He took a step back, letting her foot free. It was evident that the rope was almost undone. He shook his head, but once he realized he had backed away pretty far, he took a few steps forwards to stand in front of her. His face was filled with disappointment; not with her, but rather, with himeself. He should have known already. He should have put the pieces together that day. Jacob shook his head.
After a long period of silence, Jacob spoke, in a hushed, raspy voice. "The name is Jacob." He looked her in the eyes. "Jacob Riskinner. Captain of the Black Tortuga. Notorious pirate and hired killer." Jacob realized that her eyes were red and puffy. He frowned his brow a bit, and then ran his fingers through his hair, realizing that he did not have his hat on. It was a minor detail, but he felt incomplete without it. Jacob shook his head.
He walked to his desk, keeping his cutlass in his desk. He pulled out the chair, and grabbed her by the arm. He pushed her lightly into the chair after cutting the rope. He kept the sword pointed at her. "Sit, if you will. I'd only like a talk." Jacob said. He took deep breaths. Now that his adrenaline was down, and he realized just how tired he was. His hard was still beating quite fast, and his mind was spinning with questions, but the feeling of fatigue slowly pulled at him. Jacob watched her.
"I understand why you would want to do this, but I think you're wrong." Jacob spoke firmly. "I truly do." He pulled up one of his smaller chairs, and put it in front of her. He sat down and leaned forwards, looking into her eyes. "But that's a different story. I want to know why you were crying. That's simply enough to answer, is it not?" At this point, Jacob didn't care if this question agitated her or not. He wanted an answer, and he was determined to get it. He was curious about the royal family, and it seemed that it was not as perfect as it seemed, presumably because of Annabelle herself. She was likely the agitation in the family due to her thieving nature. Did her parents know? Surely they were rich enough to not want to give away their money to the poor on the streets.
Jacob was curious for answers, but he figured he'd get them in due time.
{{It's okay! Sorry if mine was pretty short, too.}}