After wandering to the uppermost part of the deck on the ship, Artemisia gave a quick surveillance of the deck and smiled to herself as she watched the merriment carry on. Before she could make her way into the galley, a feminine voice called out from behind her, causing Artemisia to whirl about on the heel of her foot.
"Such lovely singing. Perhaps the entire ship will forget its sorrows as quickly as you have."

      The feminine voice belonged to a young woman, of European descent with blue eyes. She had the definitive round chin, an angular jaw, as well as thin lips. Her skin was tanned from the sun, though not dark like Artemisia by any means. In return to the compliment, Artemisia, with a smile on her face answered her in a very serious tone, "Thank you. I would hope so as well, though I can say I have not been troubled by this. My losses were none, except for the tavern I worked in. Burned to the ground." 

     Artemisia was a strange character by all means, she was shorter than most women, very scrawny and gangly as well. Though she was also a curious person to look at as well, in Spain, and under Spanish rule in Portugal, women like Artemisia were often called gitanas, similar to gypsy, but the proper term is Roma. Yet she is, but isn't. Instead of being born into a gitana clan, she was a literate farm hand who learned the mystics of the world, and chose to wander wherever the wind takes her. She personally found it offensive if someone called her any of the sort. 

     Then, a rather tall man approached the two of them and made a roguish comment about her butchering the song and then again smiled broadly. "Is that so?" She asked, and then proceeded to bow deeply to him, as a more sarcastic gesture than one of respect, "Well forgive me then, señore, excusi my mispronunciation, as I am but from Italia, Florentia to be specific. So it is not my native tongue. I would sing a song for you in my tongue, but I fear you wouldn't understand." She placed a bangled hand upon her hip, clutching her tambourine as she did so.

     Omero had been observing the crew for a little while, hopefully he would be able to learn where would be the best place to start his investigation into this voyage. He took notice that the barmaid seemed to be gaining a lot of attention from the rest of the crew. If people were going to be this willing to converse with her, then perhaps it would be a good idea to get on good terms with her. After all if she considered him someone she could trust, then perhaps in future, she would be willing to part with information that others had given to her. It would be a good start at least. She was currently talking to a very tall man who appeared to be of Scandinavian decent. Omero decided to move closer so that he could hear what they were talking about.

"Well forgive me then, señore, excusi my mispronunciation, as I am but from Italia, Florentia to be specific. So it is not my native tongue. I would sing a song for you in my tongue, but I fear you wouldn't understand."

She too was from Italy? Omero decided that this would be a better time than any to join into the conversation.

"If that is the case, then I am glad there is someone else from my homeland on this voyage". Omero spoke in Italian to further his point.

     Upon hearing a male voice address her in Italian, Artemisia spun about on the heel of her foot; eyes alight with excitement and curiosity. “Buona sera, mio signore!” Good evening my lord! She noticed his black attire and scrutinized him on his appearance, though she took well note of his missing eye, and strangely even more, non-Italian appearance, despite his fluent tongue. She cocked an eye brow and answered in her native tongue to him hence forth, “What manner of business are you? Do you not find it at all unbearable in that entire outfit, signore? Ah but I forget myself.” Here she stepped forward and curtsied of a most delicate and polite manner. 

“I am Artemisia. Who are you?” And another thing to note, Artemisia tried to stick to a first name basis at all costs, unless of course it managed to slip out without caution.

"I am Omero da Roma, a pleasure to make your acquaintance" Omero spoke formally as he always did when greeting new people, that and it was the only way he knew how to speak to people.

"As for an answer to your question; yes this outfit has done a very good job at making my travels across Portugal unpleasant to say the least. However I should not not expect better, after all the church has never been known for for making the most practical attire".

Artemisia kept her gaze cemented upon Omero, so he was some type of clergy man? She wasn’t familiar with what division Omero was apart of in the church. Perhaps a bishop? She couldn't help but steal secretive glances at his scarred eyed.
“Then I pray that the sun is your friend on this journey. Lest you be caught in the heat, one wouldn't want you to suffer the heat sickness.” She spoke more in Italian and then gave a quiet laugh.

“You say you are from Italy, Omero? Where do you hail from? Perhaps I know a song from your region?”  Anyone could see that Artemisia had quite an appetite for knowledge with her constant barrage of questions.

Omero smiled to himself. He found it humorous that despite the fact he was investigating, she was asking all the questions.

"Rome is where I hail from, or rather the Vatican city. Though in truth I never saw the difference between two" Omero paused "After all having a country inside a city always seemed a somewhat odd concept to me. And what of you, where do you originally hail from"?

     Grimacing inwardly at the word, Vatican, Artemisia could feel chills climb up her spine until it made her dizzy. 
“The Vatican you say? Why on Earth would you ever leave God’s holiest city?” 
   Here she smiled slyly, “Mio signore forgive me again for my rude tongue. I shall answer your question. I come from Florentia. You would know it well as either a city of beauty or a city of sin.” 
   Her thick, arched brows raised up into an inquisitive expression as if she wanted to say more, but she held back the urge to ask what was really on her mind. To anyone around her, Artemisia would seem either brash, forward or rather ditzy in her mannerisms, she did it for a reason however. When people knew or felt that you were below them, they would take advantage of the situation and at fault express their most secretive of thoughts and actions.

With his one good eye Omero subtlety observed Artemisia for anything that may reveal her motives or true opinions; facial expressions, body language, voice tone. Through years of training and experience Omero was able to read people through these methods like an open book. However with Artemisia it was like reading a blank page; there was no information to be gained. It was clear that Artemisia had experience with hiding her emotions, meaning that she had something to hide.

"I have been to Florence numerous times, fortunately for me I have always known it as the city of beauty. As for why I am here instead of being back at the Vatican, the answer is simply; let just say I am here because I believe my skills are of better use out here then they are in the holy city". Omero's facial expression changed to a sly questioning look. "And what of you? What is your reasoning for coming on this voyage"?

    As she listened to him speak, Artemisia couldn't help but to wonder if he knew anything about the destruction to the city. She doubted that he did, but she decided that if she had the chance to question him about it, she would make damned sure that she would ask him when she got the chance. After he answered her question about not being the Vatican, Omero inquired about her reason for coming aboard the ship. A pit dropped into her stomach, as she desperately sought for an answer that would suffice, yet one that had a grain of truth.

   “I hope that you are here to help then, and not to meddle. As for me, the tavern I worked in burned to the ground in last evenings firestorm.” Artemisia withheld the fact that she believed it was actually a dragon instead. “I had no other place to go, and I figured I could be of some help be it through entertainment, cooking or help with sailing. I suppose you could say that I go wherever the wind takes me.” Again she smiled, though much softer, as if she were reminiscing within the confines of her mind.

"In which case I believe your service here will be greatly appreciated and you have my sympathises for what happened to the La Agua de Vida" Omero decided that the conversation had gone on long enough. He was still trying to keep a low profile and being in plain sight while talking may draw attention to him. He planned to continue this conversation at another time.

"Well I have greatly enjoyed talking with you, but I have wasted enough of your time and I am sure you would like to have some of the fine food and wine before the sailors finish it all" Omero laughed as he glanced over to the sailors whom half of which had passed out from drinking so much. Before leaving the conversation, Omero tried one last trick.

"Before I go, what did you say your family name was again"?

     Her gaze locked his as he gave his sympathies for her loss of place of employment with utmost politeness and courtesy. When he mentioned that she would be of some help at least aboard the ship, she gave a chuckle with a joyous laugh. “I shall pray it to be true.”

      The words had left her mouth before Artemisia could stop herself, “de Valleños, mi signore. And good evening to you, as well.”  She gave a curt bow, and turned to wander off in the direction of the food. Artemisia hadn't taken more than five steps before the realization as to what she had done came over her. The blood left her fingers as a chill came over her, she hadn't given out her family name in quite a while.

     As Omero left the conversation he couldn't help but feel as if he had heard that name before. “de Valleños". It sounded familiar, though Omero could not remember where he had heard it from...

{Collab by [@MacabreFox] and [@TheDuncanMorgan]}