Pietro: "Captain, your stories are legend," he said, giving a flourished tip of his head and a turn of his wrist as a show of respect. "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?" he asked, before looking back to Brandy a bit more appraisingly. "Are you perchance one of those lovely mermaids?"
Brandy: "Sorry, no - but, right? This red hair is totally rocking an Ariel vibe." … "Hashtag-little-mermaid-2021. Or maybe more like twelve-twenty-one?"
Though he graced Brandy with a wry smile - New Yorkers spoke such nonsense - there was nothing the Captain could add without understanding the context of her words. Instead, he focused on Lord Weston and his politely fishing comments. "You've little t'worry 'bout," Zaire assured the nobleman, and his smile sharpened enough to show the glint of a golden tooth. "I never disappoint." As to whether his crew had used a tempting of mermaids to make their escape, well, that was a rumor he didn't plan to confirm nor deny.
Brandy: "The Queen's - uhh - accumulating quite the entourage, huh?" ... "Vampires, and pirates," ... "And the Westons, now? Isn't your family like a big deal?"
Big enough, Zaire silently agreed while pointedly ignoring Brandy's tone. She'd made her opinions perfectly clear and now was hardly an ideal time to rehash that argument. Reaching out, Zaire plucked a full glass from the tray of a passing servant and handed it to Brandy, then took a second for himself. That he didn't bother to get one for Weston could be interpreted in whatever way the nobleman wanted and it was likely to be correct because there wasn't only a single reason for Zaire's actions. It was an intentional slight, a sign that the Captain had no reason to play nice - yet. Weston's could get his own damn drink.
"She 'as persuasive friends," Zaire said, eyeing Pietro again and wondering if those expensive clothes hid distinctive puncture wounds. Not that he could talk.