The woman does not look away from her hands and whatever thing she holds in them, made of dull black metal. "I am." She says, gently, with a hint of pain. "Have you come to take me, in turn? If you tell me to, I will go willingly. I will happily betray my master in whatever way you want me to. I have no care for him in particular." Her tone is strange, at once resigned and eager, as if lost and content with hopelessness. She does not look away from the thing in her hands.