[The boy's bright enough to take the compliment and don't you dare say it isn't one. There was little to make life worthwhile if a servant gave in to becoming docile.

And what did he care, really, if she wanted to take his words and turn them into insults? She would know when he would ever match distracted words with fitting intention.

He holds a breath. Ice behind the white eyes hardens-- it's all routine, really.]

Then whatever work has been done by people here prior is appreciated but not enough.

[Facts that could be said in a kinder voice. Still.]

Information in my world has been worth killing for; I find it difficult to believe anything truly important can be passed around so freely.