y'var'la let out a soft, incredulous breath, a laugh.
her gaze sharpened then, cool and clear.
as for the rest—his last line earned a slower blink, a faint curl of her lip that wasn’t quite a smile.
you make me sound like a thief in your granaries.her tail flicked once, a lazy sweep of amused disbelief.
if i wanted wealth, i’d have stayed where the gold was already piled high, nor would i be sleeping under open sky with sand in my fur.
her gaze sharpened then, cool and clear.
i want security. for myself, for those i stand beside. status is a tool, not a hunger. power keeps danger at arm’s length.a beat.
that’s all.
as for the rest—his last line earned a slower blink, a faint curl of her lip that wasn’t quite a smile.
i don’t much take to men,she says,
but one is welcome to try,her eyes slide over him, brief but pointed.
i’ve never been ungrateful to a generous partner.it is not so much of an offer as it is curious thought, a fact. she does not take him for the sort to find love in nobles.