She looks up from her shackles, which she means to navigate in a way that ceases their persistent chafing against the delicate skin of her wrists. The boredom here is an endless companion, and not one she has considered before – after all, she was raised a woman in a man's world, and idle hours spent waiting are nothing new. Yet there had been tomes, if she so wished, entertainment to command, even the lull of embroidery. Later, her children –

And always, her twin. To know that he is in another cell, with their shared hours limited to the times set aside for their feeding and recreation, is a special kind of torture indeed. At least when separations were forced before, she could think of the crown she wore for that reason.

Either way, there is a stranger now addressing her, and he comes bearing a gift, for which she reaches with a suspicious glint in her eye. A handsome fellow he is, and a gift is a good way to endear himself to her indeed, and once she slides the cards from their pack, her smile is as close to genuine as it can be.

"At last, something to break the monotony. To what do I owe the pleasure?"