Gideon looks back at her with one brow arched high and hard, a silent retort that suggests Lenore has said something dumb and naive, like she has no idea how the world actually works. That this may be how the world works here is something that's yet to fully dawn on her, still struggling to adjust to the possibility that she really isn't going to be tortured and killed. She almost gives voice to her thoughts - that people rarely left Drearburh alive, that since the death of the Princess and only heir to the throne they'd closed in on themselves and kept outsiders away. Not wanting anyone to discover the full extent of the Kingdom's decay. Only a misplaced sense of loyalty forces her to mutter instead, "sounds like you knew fuck all about the place you just invaded."

Gideon continues eating as Lenore talks, her strained mind working hard, trying to make sense of how the carnage and humiliations of the last few days could have culminated in this. She’s yanked hard out of her thoughts by Lenore's final note, almost chokes on her last bite of pear. Wipes her face with the back of her hand as she raises her eyes to her captor.

"If I'd known you enjoy threats of violence against intimate body parts, I'd have tried a different tactic," she clears her throat, reaches for the spice-scented wine, "And just an FYI, taking a swordswoman as a prisoner of war and then asking her to be your companion is all kinds of crazy. Like, if I'm really a prodigy and an asset - which I'm not denying, by the way, it's totally true - why stick me in a position where I'm not properly utilised? If it's because you've been dreaming of gazing at my biceps all day since the moment you first laid eyes on me, you may as well just come out and say so."

She's already braced to be struck for impertinence, muscles tensed beneath her overlay of nonchalance.