[ The explanation, sparse as it is, is long overdue. She had suspected surgery or torture from the healed scar on the back of her sheared head, but the full implications had been a mystery until now. Outside she keeps her careful appearance of a woman enjoying a pleasant conversation, but inside the rage is hot in her blood. If she knew who was responsible, she would flay them herself. She would build a palace stone by stone with her own hands just to hang them from the walls. She would start a war.

But she doesn't know, and she can't do anything but swallow it all. Listen, and wait. ]

Well, well. When I wanted to collect information, I at least hired the spies myself. What a terribly impersonal world we find ourselves in.

[ Her smile and tilt of her head are carefully set to appear self-effacing. ]