Joscelin smiles, showing her his bloodstained teeth. "Got a bit of exercise in. Worked up an appetite, too, but I will spare your delicate sensibilities for the moment. Provided you're still starving yourself?"

He doesn't sound concerned; he's just making conversation with the condescending air of someone asking about how a diet is going. If she wants to be silly and naive, that is her decision. Instead, he finds a glass of half-drunk wine forgotten on the table next to them and raises it in a mocking toast.

"Sic semper tyrranus, as they say. May our new regime fare better than the last two. Or mine, for that matter.."