Captain Vasilia of the [i]Plousios[/i] could not close her eyes. She couldn’t keep track of their position at all, not in this blasted dark, but so long as her eyes were open she could at least guess. How many turns, how many degrees? How long down each hallway? Dolce might have managed it, but every moment her thoughts lingered on him was like placing her bare hands on a burning stove. So she lies still. She breathes. And she keeps her eyes open.

A door slides open with a flash of blinding light, and her heart skips a perilous beat against Bella’s chest.

A bed. She’s been hurled onto a bed. And not the kind surrounded by new and creative ways to slowly dismember a prisoner while keeping them alive to scream. A normal, exquisite, rather large bed, in a rather large bedroom. Of course it is. Was. A bedroom. Didn’t she know that if Bella had wanted to tear her apart, she’d have a cheering audience back on the Hermetic’s ship? There was no sense, no sense at all to take her all the way out here for such a purpose. She knew that for a fact, and had known it for a fact, and Bella certainly knew she knew, for the ‘Praetor’ possessed no tools or intimate proximity that could’ve possibly clued her in otherwise. Ha ha ha ha ha. Ha.

...a tad empty for a Praetor’s bedroom, now that she looks at it. Then again, Bella was no ordinary Praetor, was she?

“You know, I could ask you much the same question.” She stretches out, arching her back until the chains run taught as a bowstring, groaning in satisfaction as wearied muscles surrender and loosen. The sheets delight her fur; soft and crisp and free of any whiff of the ocean. (And hasn’t her life taken a dark turn when that was a blessing to appreciate.) Did she [i]have[/i] to get up now? Couldn’t she savor this magnificent bed a few minutes more? She’d nearly nodded off [s]in your arms[/s] on the way over here. It’s only fair to let her enjoy the accommodations. “For once, I’m inclined to believe you didn’t come here for Redana.” Was it just you, or did she put some extra emphasis on that name? “And while I’d be [i]flattered[/i] to think you’d come all this way just to see me, there are more efficient ways of getting a girl’s attention. Not that I mind the effort.~” She lifted herself to a sitting position. Slowly, careful of the chains, lidded eyes twinkling in quiet amusement. “Why [i]are[/i] you here, Bella? Why indeed...”

A pause. Teetering on the brink of a final, dangerous answer.

“Ah. But you have been on your [i]best[/i] behavior, haven’t you?” Thoughtful. Privately contemplative. Still loud enough for Bella to hear anyway. All games aside - well, most games aside - it was an...improvement, over their last encounter. She might even go so far as to say that Bella had performed her part admirably well. Birmingham in the dark, the two of them alone, no reason for undue suspicion, and all without any prior planning or practice?

Her jaw set in a flash of frustration. Dammit all, had she been dealing with the shapeshifter this whole time? At least part of the time, surely? Impossible, that Bella - [i]Bella![/i] Of all people! - could have pulled this off on her own. If she had, then...then! Well, then what a shame for the myriad of other disqualifying factors. Talent like that shouldn’t be wasted on Tellus.

“Yes...I suppose so...” She breathes, and this musing truly was for her alone. With a slight nod, she graciously accepts the offered cup. “Very well. I take it you saw the enormous time cannon on your way here?”

She takes a light sip, awaiting Bella’s response. Tell us, what vintage have you selected for your honored guest, Praetor?