"Aye Capt'n? I realize yer' dense but don't ye' realize my hands are a bit useless above my head?"
She chuckled as he unlocked her hands, and she brought them down around her face, stretching them and popping her knuckles. Looking at her battered, calloused hands sent her into a memory. Her hands had looked like this after her sister died. She had spent hour after hour punching sacs of flour. Her hands had turned out bruised and bleeding, not even coming close to the pain she felt inside.
Gia smiled slyly at the men around her and procured a dagger from her corset.
"A lady always has her dagger, correct?"
She followed her captain toward the deck, and what she saw above was the reason for a slight gasp that escaped her lips. She looked down at the water that was pooling around her ankles--she convinced herself it was water and not..--and turned towards the nearest edge of the boat. The corners of her lips turned upwards.
"Seem to be in a bit o' trouble, are we?"