Silk and Sinful

This woman had power, but she was foolish to think she could have killed him. Even a man of his power could not have killed him so easily. It simply was not that easy to do. He blinked it away, sizing up her usefulness with each word, knowing he could make a delegate out of her, or an agent... Or anything he wished to. The arrogance, though, had to go.

He twitched his hand, and most would have thought he was close to seizing her pretty little throat, but he did not lose his temp. Instead, he took her chin and said, "When you realize there is little I need from you, then will those assets be significant. There are many things I can offer you, all of which you need. I do not need you. But you could make my life very easy."

The man spoke up. This man understood his culture a lot more than the woman, though he appreciated her power and spunk. But the subordinance was something he was glad to see, it was not something easily taught. The younger woman approached and he watched her carefully. This type of loyalty was indeed in the blood. "Yes. I congratulate the three of you. You have caught my attention."

Zada smiled very slightly, simultaneously amused and slightly irked by his lordly self assessment. Men. What was it with them? Even someone allegedly so powerful could not apparently understand the workings of the mind of a woman. The timeless mystery between the sexes. Zada was a purely a mercenary. Zada had always only supported Zada. She hadn't ever had much use for people as a whole. She wasn't interested in the slightest in being a lackey for anyone or dirt under anyone's feet. She only aligned with people who shared a common cause with her, but she would only enter an agreement when she could strike an accord with them. An alliance. Not servitude. Something that worked for them and her, mutually. Why was it, again, that Issak had thought this might work?

So this man, another contender for domination, believed he could take the wizarding world by himself, then? He needed no one? She would wish him luck with that, no matter how good he was. Truly, she could walk out now and allow him to do this all himself and it was no skin off her nose. She saw in him the desire to do some Shakespearean "Taming of the Shrew" with her. She wasn't interested in that. He needed to accept her as she was, at least to some degree. Cultural differences or not. She would be willing to work with him. That she would do. She was not willing to let anyone control her. Not ever. Not even him. An accord would have to be reached if this were to work.

"It is a generous offer, to be sure. There is, though, little I need that I do not already have," she said, her voice still as silky smooth as the vodka in her glass. "Now that we have agreed that we do not need each other, shall we get to the business of how we can make life easier for each other?" She wanted to let him know she was willing to strike a balance of some sort with him, but there were a couple boundaries. And she didn't know if he had it in him to rise to that. Or was the great man limited in his diplomacy?