Fuck me. Teddy had long since been old enough to understand that there were direct and often swift consequences to any manner of stupidity he chose to exhibit on any given day. He’d hoped ( perhaps naively ) that after his punishment on his journey to the island in the first place that he’d have a bit more sense than to do anything that would allow him to land himself back in trouble so soon after having made land. Impulsivity, as much as he despised it some days, was one of his many qualities and one he had never quite been able to shake. Of course, honesty had somehow become equally important to him even for someone who spent most of their time getting into trouble wherein honesty was absolutely not the best trait to carry him through wiggling out of said trouble. His shoulders slumped in time with the slow exhalation of a sigh during which he returned the poorly hidden bottle of whiskey to his lap and glanced up at the woman who’d spoken to him through his lashes; he had the decency to look slightly ashamed of his decision to have taken the bottle in the first place, and mentally attempted to catalog what manner of trouble he might be getting himself into now. “If someone was meant to be watching the cases on the docks they weren’t doing a remarkable job,” He explained, a lilting hesitance to his words as he danced around any opportunity to inadvertently insult the woman in front of him. “I thought a drink might suit me. Perhaps I should’ve asked permission first,” He paused and held the bottle out towards Sophie with a poorly disguised grimace, “I don’t suppose I’m going to get away from here unscathed.”
Sophie stood there, her gaze directed at the man as she waited for the answer to a question she assumed simple. It could have been, weren’t people inclined to lie or felt the need to be deceitful. It seemed to be something inherent to human nature, embedded in chromosomes or something akin to it. Listening to the explanation, the brunette took mental notes. There shouldn’t have been cases by the docks unless they were being loaded into a ship or out of one. If there were any trips scheduled, it was the sort of information Sophie would have been privy to, which meant it was something that could be ruled out. If this, however, was a shipment that was coming in, considering the importance of the cargo, it should have never been left out there unsupervised. A stern expression settled into Sophie’s features, though it was directed at the prince. If someone was doing a sloppy job with their supplies, she needed to find a culprit. “Ordinarily, alcohol is something you’d have to ask your captor for. Or something that would flow freely during the events we occasionally hold,” she explained, merely because it was the kind of person that she was. “So, that might have been a good call,” Sophie nodded. The first mate looked at the bottle that had been canted in her direction, and her shoulders traveled with a shrug. “There are certainly those who would have made sure you received a punishment to fit your crime,” she agreed. “I, however, have more pressing concerns than your petty transgression. Should you be willing to help me, I might be inclined to take responsibility for the bottle you’ve snatched,” she pointed towards the object as she made her proposition. Sophie considered herself a reasonable person, and if he was, indeed, telling the truth, it meant she had bigger fish to fry in that situation. She was willing to bargain if he could make himself useful.
