Brandy: "How do you think she managed to become the vampire whisperer anyway…?"
Zaire's eyebrows quirked up and the gesture came along with a tip of the head and a wry pursing of lips that made it clear that was, indeed, The Question. He hadn't bothered to ask last time he'd been alone in a room with Francesca because, well, he'd been a bit preoccupied, but maybe if he got another chance . . .
Pietro: "Sir, Lady," he said, offering them these titles in greeting regardless of whether they actually deserved them. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure. Pietro Weston, son of Lord Clement Weston of Resolute Lake Manor. And you are...?"
Brandy: "I'm no lady, but I am Brandy," ... "Long live the queen, right?" And with a chuckle, added, "Really, really long, probably."
Vaguely annoyed by the interruption - though mostly because his mood was already a bit sour - Zaire turned his steady gaze on the nobleman, taking a handful of seconds to look Lord Pietro Weston over. He knew the surname, of course; one would have to be living in a hole to have never heard of the Westons of the Western Plains. As far as he knew though, Zaire had never met any of the family. He gave the young man a once-over. What were the chances Pietro would have fairy dust on him?
"Cap'n Zaire Visser," he said, confirming what the other guests had been whispering since the pirates had made their appearance. "Of th' Siren's Song." The words were spoken with a casual confidence to match the Captain's bearing, one thumb hooked into the wide belt at his waist, but then why wouldn't he be comfortable here, amongst so many nobles? He and his crew, and by extension, Brandy, had been personally invited by the Queen herself and how many of these nobles could honestly say the same?