Brandy noticed that the young lord showed a distinct non-reaction to her comment, and she found that interesting. No affirmation, no dissent, even if he made sure that they knew he'd heard and understood. Curious.
Zaire: "Cap'n Zaire Visser," "Of th' Siren's Song."
"Captain, your stories are legend," "From those stories, I'd expect you'd rather be on the high seas or in a boisterous tavern instead of attending something like this. Don't tell me you plan to exchange your ship for a castle, to clear your name of all wrongdoing. You'd disappoint all my privateer associates dead-set on catching up to you for the bounty one of these days." "Is it true that you escaped the navy by calling mermaids to your aid?" "Are you perchance one of those lovely mermaids?"
The interested, contemplative look on Brandy's face was overcome, at that last comment, by an overly-amused smile. She tossed her hair and gave a lock a theatrical twirl, "Sorry, no - but, right? This red hair is totally rocking an Ariel vibe."
She didn't wait for the joke to land because it wouldn't, but that didn't make it less satisfying for herself...
Or so she thought.
While neither Zaire nor Lord Weston here laughed, exactly, Brandy heard a perfectly-timed chortle over her shoulder. She turned her head quickly, but she didn't see the man's face. He was coughing desperately into his sleeve - probably the unfortunate combination of drinking and laughing in the same breath. Her gut said that he'd been laughing at her joke… but she couldn't be sure of that. He stood in a circle of four, after all…
She couldn't help it. She added, a touch louder, "Hashtag-little-mermaid-2021. Or maybe more like twelve-twenty-one?"
He glanced her way, but there was no way to fight through her thoughts to determine if it was because he understood - that he was also a New Yorker - or if he was just alerted to the volume. So, Brandy shrugged it off, and returned her attention to her companions.
"The Queen's - uhh - accumulating quite the entourage, huh?" Brandy said, her obscure choice of words and tone deliberate to try to draw out a bit more of their aquiantance's intention. No Lord of the West was about to be tipping his head to the likes of them without an agenda. Maybe he wanted connections on the coast, or a ship, or an ear to the ground with the commoners. They needed to know. "Vampires, and pirates," that word came out a bit sour, as Brandy was still in shock that Francesca had managed to pull Zaire in after killing his men and nearly executing himself, but she didn't linger there and instead added, pointedly, "And the Westons, now? Isn't your family like a big deal?"