Brethren Court (3)

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Hidden on the balcony, Diana Sparrow watched her grandmother in awe.

Roxanne, or as she was called here, King Sparrow, stood straight-backed and beautiful, her posture perfectly erect.

Tall for a woman and lean, her slender frame hard with muscle, she carried herself with the commanding authority of the aristocrat she had once been.

Her hair, rich brown now liberally shot through with silver, was loose and fell in waves to the middle of her back.

Unlike most of the other Pirate Lords, she was dressed in the same clothes she wore every day.

A slightly faded black frock coat decorated with white and silver embroidery over a white shirt and hard-wearing breeches of a greyish colour. High boots of supple, well-worn leather encased her small feet, reaching to below her knees.

The scabbard on her hip was empty, as her sword was stuck into a globe along with the others belonging to the rest of the Pirate Lords, the golden inlay in its hilt glimmering in the light.

Diana's eyes flickered to the rest of the people gathered around the long table.

Her father sat at the far end, chair tipped onto two legs, his booted feet resting on the edge of the table.

Captain Barbossa was on one side of her grandmother, his hat hiding his expression from Diana's view.

Captain NicFhionniale sat on the other side of Roxanne, engaged in conversation with Captain Rhodes.

The soft twang of a guitar string diverted Diana's attention and she glanced at her grandfather.

Edward Teague appeared to be quite absorbed in playing, but Diana noticed his watchful gaze directed on the hall below.

"Are you looking at grans bum or watching the Court?" she asked quietly.

"Both, more the former," Teague muttered with a slight grin as he continued playing.

Diana giggled. Then she noticed her father glancing at the balcony and quickly stifled the noise.

Around the table, an argument had broken out centering around a dispute over smuggling.

Captain Jocard was gesturing furiously, though Teague couldn't hear what he was saying, and quite frankly didn't care.

Roxanne didn't seem inclined to intervene at present. She had seated herself, her index finger idly tracing a stain on the table in front of her.

"Shut it!"

Captain NicFhionniale was on her feet, and her shout silenced the hall.
The soft-spoken Irishwoman rarely raised her voice, and as a result, everyone listened when she did.

"Well done lass, ye saved me from wastin' a bullet," Teague muttered with a grin, his arthritic fingers still wandering over the guitar's strings.

"Were you going to shoot someone grandad?" Diana asked, her dark eyes full of curiosity.

"Nah, just fire into the air, scare the bejesus out of 'em and get them all to shut their traps," he replied nonchalantly, the grin still on his lips.

He shifted into a more comfortable position in the high-backed chair where he was seated, a dog asleep at the side of it.

"Do all meetings last a long time?"

Teague shrugged slightly.
"They vary, mainly depending on what's being discussed, the attitudes of the Pirate Lords an' how annoyed your gran and me get."

Below them, Roxanne was on her feet, her wedding ring catching the chandeliers light as she gestured while talking.

"...You will solve no problems by challenging them directly, they are a force beyond your power to defeat."
Her voice, her already posh English accent made more clipped by years spent living in Madagascar, floated up to the balcony.

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