"I've been told I'm quite skilled with a needle," she shoots back, blunt teeth bared like fangs in an animalistic smirk. She almost wants to laugh, wants to tear into him for thinking she was someone so delicate, so scared of him that she would bow to his every whim and fancy. Clearly he didn't do his research. "You could always ask the High Chancellor what he thinks of my skilled."

She does laugh at that, a dark little chuckle and Rose moves forward, skirts sweeping over the floor. With him sitting she almost feels taller than him, but she is still a small woman, and he a beast of a troll and even sitting there is no true difference. She hears the order and his tone and she almost seems to obey, stopping millimetres away, half between his legs and her tone drops, eyes half lidded as she studies him. "Though I suppose he may find it difficult to talk after that fantastic demonstration I gave him. What do you think?"