[ They do not want my wealth, only my blood. In truth, it rankles at her to feel so idle. ]

And how many golden targets have you known? [ Though not meant to give offense, the question is asked sweetly, direct enough to slyly communicate what she suspects. It has just struck her who Fate reminds her of: a certain sellsword captain who had also seemed so friendly. ]

It is true that I have no petitioners at my gates, only some shadow company led by cats. I suppose I must be thankful for small victories.

[ S a s s. ]