The harlot was a plaything, yes, but she was quite fiesty. Not many got to actually control her but the two she truly saw as her masters or captors, the two highest superiors. There was the occasional child here and there, but only Basanti had gained her respect, only as blatant fact of her blood and rank; the future Queen of Arcanum. She had seen some of Valentine, one of the earlier and older sons of the sovereign, and he was quite a charmer like his mother, {nearly sarcastically speaking} and each time they had met, it was as simple passerby. It was time she knew of who he really was within. "Oh, what was his name again? Valentine?" Her lyrics were richly accented but held a chime of clarity, echoing about. A coy smile curled her features, as the harlot would fixate herself right where she was. Maybe this man would want to make her a true plaything, but he'd have a bit of a wall to break through before that would even begin to hamper her virginity. Nothing wrong with keeping yourself on the virgin's side, correct?
To the male, it seemed she had backed off far too soon. It was imminent in his cobalt orbs up until her comment of what words she would wail from her lips. As if the colbalt beast would get her to wail like a banshee for him. Daft beast. A promise would be made from his voice, ushered with a hint of venom as his hulking form retreated into the shadows. As his side barely grazed her posture with his height, she did not flinch once, holding back the desire to bite his rump. Not now to play rough. Maybe after a couple more rounds of their deadly game. "I keep my promises, or I hope to die, Valentine." Those final words came as a vibrating hiss of honey, a promise she'd keep. Quietly, she noted this location. Maybe this boy would come another day, and so would she, for round two of their entendre game. -- exit Empyrea --