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The prisoners were whistling and shouting when she was dragged to her cell.
"Take off your top!", they yelled, "we wanna see!"
Assholes, she thought to herself. Just wait until Pops gets to you. Or Marco. (She fought back a grin when she thought about the last guy who'd propositioned to her when Marco was nearby. He'd been stupid and drunk, but Marco hadn't liked it. At all. Later, she'd shouted at him, saying that she could defend herself. "I know", he'd said and shrugged. "But you're my sister." She missed him, so much.) Come to think of it, just get her out of those cuffs and she'd beat them up herself.
"I bet the guards want you for themselves, don't they?"
Une nearly sighed in relief when Magellan finally silenced them. Assholes.
She had to bite back a hiss when he attached her cuffs roughly to the heavy chains in the wall. At least he didn't stare at her breasts. Dislike him she might, but he was a professional. At the moment she was thankful for every reprieve she got.
(Not even Blackbeard had torn up her bikini top. Probably some weird kind of respect in that twisted up head of his. Or maybe he just didn't care.)
The heavy doors fell shut with a clang; the guards left without so much as a glance in her direction.
It might be Grandpa, she mused. That was exactly the sort of think he'd do: call Magellan and promise him a brutal death if one guard even laid a finger on his daughter. (Besides the whole dragging her to the cell, of course. That was strictly business.) And he'd follow through with it, too. Yes, probably Grandpa.
She let her head fall forward with a sigh, now that nobody could hear her. The other prisoners were still yelling in the other cages, but many of them from pain. Served them right.
The cell was cold. She closed her eyes and thought of her family.