Hmm. No.

[ Carmilla smiles pleasantly at him, a sympathetic sort of tone to her voice when she speaks. Almost like she's debating on feeling bad for him, at being hopeful of the prospect he might be able to take his frustrations out on the poorer folk here. Her voice is just as low, eyes never wavering even as she says: ]

I don't think they will.

[ These guards are so far up their own asses they wouldn't even humor her unless she opted for more violent methods - which are too messy right now, too much of a risk, no matter how tempting it is reminding all the cattle their place when she steps into the room. It's why she's opted for the less bloody, less showy, idea of parading through the jail cells when she's bored or surveying who is worth her words. She takes a step closer to the cell bars, hardly worried over whether the rumors are true - whether these prisoners are a threat to society, or a danger to her. ]

But I don't think I'm correct. I know I'm correct. I'm hardly ever wrong when it comes to things like this.