Returning the nod, Elizabeth takes a step forward, then another. She relaxes slightly when the movement does not spark a resurgence of that particular wrenching feeling in the center of her being. Already she finds herself certain that most of the men she knows, pirates or not, would be a gibbering mess if they felt anything similar. Already.

And it will only get worse.

"Shall we?" she asks pleasantly, as if contemplating a quiet stroll along the Empress' decks.