She knows his coming, senses well tuned enough to hear the tap of his boots, the click of a door shutting even if she can't find herself with the strength to look in a way that does not use her eyes. It's fine though, he'll be here soon enough she takes it, footsteps getting louder and louder by the second. And really she's in no hurry to meet him either, Rose knowing enough of the human slave trade and her new supposed 'owner' to make a few opions. One being that at the first chance she gets she's going to do what she did to the High Chancellor.

There's no need to straighten up when he enters, Rose's posture already perfect. Were it not for the shackles around her wrist, the collar around her throat she'd look like someone of equal footing to he, a dignitary of sorts. Captivity hasn't broken her yet, at least not in way she'll let an enemy so easily glimpse and even though she doesn't look at him, her gaze still on the wall before her she knows he's there.

She lets him wait a few more minutes before she acknowledges him, violet eyes sliding over to meet his cooly, even as he towers over her petite frame. "We were once working on a theory that your race had some sort of vision problem. After all it would explain the garish fashion choices you all seem to make." There's no fear in her words, Rose almost sounding bored as she speaks. After all, what's the worst he can do? She's sure she's already lived through it, and there is no one left to use against her. "Unless of course that was a rhetorical query and you're not actually a half blind moron but merely just a moron."

Her teeth may be blunt, but she flashes them all the same, gleaming white. And then she waits, half braced for a blow.