It's the eyes that draw her in. 

So vibrant! Bella has always prided herself on her powers of perception, but those eyes are violet windows into the invisible truth of the universe. Her tongue laps at the back of her teeth again and again as she stares. She swallows painfully; her throat is suddenly drier than Redana's textbooks. And the color... Bella has her mother's eyes. These are unique across the galaxy. Not just how they glint like brooches fit for the Empress' neck, but the sharp spark, that flash just underneath the surface that seems to devour the entire ship even despite being turned toward absolute nothingness. 

Bella is dimly aware of the sound of her claws tapping on the table in front of her. Power. Absolute power. Power to know all, power to see all, the power to draw lines between each and every thing that could be. The power to never be taken by surprise. With that much power, a person would be invincible. With that much power, a person could never be betrayed.

"...Mynx," her voice sounds rough and unpleasant in her ears, without the husk or the melody she associates with speaking, "Call for wine."

Her fingers move to softly brush against her collar. The leather sinks beneath her probing fingertips with a pleasing suppleness that threatens to pull a low purr from her parched throat. She bites down hard until the feeling passes. Her hand pulls back to the hard, cold steel of the links that still dangle from the hook looped into the collar. Her leash. She closes her eyes, and there's no stopping that throaty rumble of pleasure this time. 

Down, down, down. Link by link, until she finds the broken piece at the end. Her eyes open, and she watches the Ikarani sitting in perfect stillness again. No leash on that one. No control. But still, those eyes... yes. Eyes were always the path to strength. You could see it in every person. Just look at Redana. Just look at Her Majesty. With eyes like that, Bella could, could, could.

No. She swallows again, and turns her head to watch Mynx for a long moment. The straightness of her spine, the expression on her face, the particular notes of citrus she's chosen to hide her natural scent under today. Even now. For the briefest of instants, Bella smiles.

"She sounds more like a bomb than a person. The princess only has her little band of misfits, this would be such a waste of... hrn. No. If they can escape the Armada then we should treat them like a credible threat. Still, Re-- the... princess would be at unacceptable risk. Tell me how to control this. How do I make use of an Ikarani before she burns?"