Gregor nodded at her answer, took a measured sip of his chilled mineral water and leaned back. He'd taken off his greatcoat, hung it over the crest rail of his wooden chair and rolled up the sleeves of his black, woolen, high-collared tunic. Several faint scars were visible on his forearms, relics from old fights. Gregor's hat was on the table next to his discarded plate. All in all, he looked more approachable and relaxed than he had all day. That said, Loka was right -- Gregor was a killer, though he killed much more than just people like her. He figured she would learn that soon enough. 

"We are pawns in a game being played by some of the most powerful political factions in the empire," Gregor replied. "If there is a pit, I might not see it coming. All we can do is make the best out of this situation. Who knows, you might even come to enjoy this line of work. I take great satisfaction in it." He raised one brow and gave Loka an amused half-smile.