[ The impotent little - she nips at him playfully, laughing into him, muffled to softness. ]

The things the countess wears? They are so utterly restricting I would go mad. Give me my own formal garments over that any day.

[ her nose wrinkles, well, at least it isn't as bad as the English. She could give them that. She had watched the brothel girls dress of church one day. Insisting on their best. Underskirts and corsets and then over jackets.

Groans a little, remembering the party with the Cetagandans - ] - if I even remembered how to.