Ysaryn tensed when Kire's grasp tightened, her eyes darting from the women's face to her hand for an instant. She was released, and Kire felt her own abdomen, and the elf blinked, looking back up, seeking answers. 
"A gem?" Ysaryn repeated, thinking of diamonds, rubies, the only sorts she'd ever seen and had only hoped of getting her hands on. "Gem makes dolls?" The word 'dolls' curved oddly on her tongue, the word too foreign. She didn't know this word puppet, either. 

"Itallo is two faces. One face is Council. Other face is stoler. Steals elf. Makes his coin with our flesh." The elf shuddered, pulling her sleeve back down. "Neither face is good. But one pretends. Bad blood. Ugly heart." Ysaryn turned her head to spit on the ground. 

"What is this word, 'puppet'? Doll is toy? A slave? He wants make slave?"