BTS: The Sea & Her Serpents

1: Lady of Fortune

"They say mermaids are the serpents of the sea, and women are the snakes that slithered from the waves. They grew legs, fair faces, and an uncanny sense of vengeance."

- Taken from A Seaman's Predilection to the Celes
(a published journal by Oakman Carr, date lost)

✢ - - - ✢

To Layla Julian, the hardest thing about being a pirate was keeping it a secret. Not that she succeeded often. If she'd lingered too long on the main deck and happened to greet another ship, she sailed past with her hands behind her back and her eyes fastened to that of whichever captain's. On morning strolls at the dock when only salt and the calls of workers stained the breeze, she carried her cutlass at her hip so the sun's glint might blind the men thinking of testing her courage.

And in the night, when she paid visits to those that neither invited her nor realized she was coming, those unfortunate souls glimpsed her face as well—though it was the last thing they glimpsed at all.

Perhaps she kept her secret better than she thought.

Still, as she lounged behind the desk that separated her from the arrangement of seats and the bodies that claimed them, she hoped she wasn't making it obvious. She crossed one leg over the other to keep them from bouncing, her hands trained on the armrests but straying every once in a while to cover her lips with a manicured hand.

She wasn't the only one holding onto character. Marie Orman's eyes glazed over with curiosity, flicking to Layla's now and then with a subtle head shake to match. It wasn't too long before she grabbed her husband Daniel's hand and twiddled his thumb with hers out of habit, getting sucked back into the news just as she might've pulled away. And beyond that, in a further corner behind Mr. Abner's place on the couch, stood Noeline, who crossed her arms and leaned against the wall with a flicker in her gaze that said: behave.

Looking at her friend only heightened her amusement. Before a giggle could bubble up her throat, she coughed lightly and returned to Mr. Abner's whispered raving. The old man's neck craned forward as a turtle's, his voice carrying just loud enough to be heard over the music on the other side of the study's door. "That isn't all the Iron Harpies have done. Did you know Lord Rothman was found dead in his own restroom? Keeled over his own chamberpot!"

Layla gasped. "I did hear about that one, I believe. The coroners said he lost a lot of blood."

Abner nodded fervently. "But do you know why, Lay--" Noeline cleared her throat from the back of the room, Abner's flushed cheeks turning from pink to ruby as he lauged nervously. "Um, Lady Julian, I mean, excuse me."

"Layla is fine," she corrected, earning a scowl from the only other pirate in the room. Layla winked at her comrade as Abner continued.

"They say he had his hands cut off. Severed clean through the bone."

Marie pressed her and her husband's entwined fingers to her forehead, swaying as the revelation lingered. In response, Daniel swore under his breath and drew her into his chest. Two lightweights, both of them. Never had been very good for hearing the garrish details, the parts that made the story great. But Layla crossed her arms and knit her brows together.

"Mr. Abner, that is terrible."

"Truly!" He snatched a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed his forehead. "And that isn't even the half of it. Lady Rothman, his wife, woke up to find his hands on her nightstand."

As Marie seemed to mumble a swift prayer, Layla perked. "Actually, the ring was on his nightstand. The hands were on his pillow."

Abner stilled, the gears in his head shifting. Then he nodded slowly. "That is correct, Lady Julian. My apologies for forgetting." He opened his mouth to say something else but hesitated, his head tilting as he gathered the courage to ask. "Lady, if I may ask, what publication did you receive such news from? They must have spoken with the coroners directly and that would be terrific reporting. I'd like to enquire more facts about the case from them."