power comes in many flavors

WESSEX after all is said and done you're just a carnivore let you in and drink my blood you're nothing but a monster Oh, Neron would likely find out more about her, but it would be from a very different lens. Wessex idly wonders if the next time they meet will be so cordial - icy, yes, but she recognizes the world the Launceleyn’s come from, now. There’s the unfailing politeness when the time calls for it, but there is no warmth. The Warden is as cold as the land he rules - chiseled jawline made for the jutting peaks of the Fangs and no-nonsense mannerisms perfect for the stark life-and-death stakes beyond the Citadel. Rexanna will likely be just fine. The others, she hopes will annoy him to no end. Particularly the bard. If the ex-Queen can read anything about Neron, she doesn't see his relationship with Jigano being a good one. She nods, an equally small smile present. “Thank you, Warden.” A brief pause, while she considers something that seems almost far away. And then it’s gone, cards once again held to her chest. “If you should need anything - I can be found with a little effort. Until next time.” The impulse is cheeky, but also quite deliberate. The Wraith gives a little mock salute of her fingers before disappearing as-is, relaxed form and all, from the chair.