There are many ways someone can carry themselves with a jingling collar. When she was done with Agata; and had stretched, taken a few breaths, brushed her hair, and composed herself; Giri had selected a combination of delicate and dignified. She walks gingerly, each step drawing attention to the fact that she is wearing a collar, that she knows she is wearing a collar, that she cannot move without a jingle but she can try to keep the swaying of her body to a minimum and the associated jingles soft. Yet at the same time, her stance is straight and her gaze steady, without the flinch of embarrassment that seems to be Han’s signature of late. It’s not relaxed, but it is dignified. It challenges the watcher to dare tell her that anything about this is worthy of shame. 

Thus does she approach Kalaya on the garden deck. There is only a light tinkle as she steps nearer to her. “I hope you were treated well?” she asks, and there is sincerity in her voice and worry in her eyes. She’s away from Red Wolf now, and less intoxicated. She did remark that Kalaya wasn’t at their luxurious dinner, even if she hadn’t said anything at the time. 

“I…never did find the Rakshasa who disrupted your tournament. If I can assist with that still or with…anything else that may benefit from a witch’s talents, I am at your service p…my lady.” You can tell at the end that Giri was going to call you princess but thought better if it and settled on a neutral title of respect. Have you told her what you think your role is here? Do you know yourself?