Emmaline crunched the mouthful of apple particularly noisily then blushed slightly. That wasn't exactly what a fearful damsel in her position was supposed to do which deepened her blush. Markus' eyes were unusually penetrating and she had a momentary and irrational flash of fear that he could somehow see through all the layers of lies to the core of her being, whatever that was. It occurred to her somewhere deep in her lizard brain that Markus was a very attractive man, for all he smelled of salt and gunpowder. 

"I am completely honest," Emmaline assured him, waiting a heartbeat for Sigmar to strike her dead for such an insane assertion. She reached out and touched the scar on his face in a considering fashion. Moistening her lips as she did so and swallowing her mouthful. 

"You certainly appear a dangerous man captain, I saw you cut down poor Roberto," she remarked, then realising he didn't know who she was talking about, amplifed the statement.

"He was the captain of our ship," she clarified. Realising she hadn't broken eye contact with Markus for an uncomfortabley long time, she reached for the bottle of rum but managed to snag the sleeve of her dress on the edge of the table and knock the bottle over with a splash of sweet smelling anger fluid.

"Shiz!" she snapped in a rather unladly like fashion, snatching her sleeve back before it could be stained by the spreading mess.