Not that she didn't appreciate the deference; it was, after all, her due as one of the four lords. But nothing quite grated on the nerves like empty flattery when all you want is some damn answers.

And a drink.


...And maybe a cigarette. That would be nice.

"Lady Dimitrescu," she answers, as though it were obvious. "And mind not laying it on so thick; no one likes a sycophant."