( F. YOMEN )
❝ Fortunately for me, I’ve been accumulating those long before father’s demise, so my practice in that particular area is quite acute. Try not to look so disappointed. ❞
Ferra relaxed slightly in the high-backed leather chair when she deduced Kalrien’s stubbornness would outweigh her comfort. extending her own legs to cross ankles on the guest chair that she had just offered.
❝ I suppose you thought you’d come here, collect your dues, and be off, as though the revelation of your true identity wouldn’t be a bargaining chip for me. That’s quite a naive outlook, coming from someone of your exper- tise, don’t you think? ❞ Ferra’s taunting face smirked slightly, kicking the guest chair back with a flick of her foot, crossing her legs.
❝ Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to sit? ❞
TRY NOT TO look so disappointed.
Kalrien’s expression had not shifted since she had gotten there. The act was growing stale and saccharine--she grew tired of the self-congratulatory posturing. This was part of the reason her tactic of dealing with contracts had worked so well. He lack of contact with the employer made her less likely to put a bullet in their head, herself.
The conclusions Ferra was jumping to screamed that she thought she’d already won, but Kalrien wasn’t inclined to believe that. For all the girl’s vapidity, she couldn’t be that idiotic. Kalrien was a wildcard now that her strings had been cut, for all the threats Ferra could stack against her. But fine. If she wanted to see the mask come off, the mask could come off. Though Kalrien’s expression did not change, her tone was drier, a twinge of irony wincing through the smooth flow of her words
“ You misread. I didn’t come expecting anything, but I did want you to know that I don’t work for free, even with threats of blackmail on the table. You’re only as good to me as your money, and that stands as long as I’m not made a better offer.
Try not to look so disappointed. ”












