Olivia blinked. Well, that was an easy sell, she thought. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or suspicious, but decided to take the win when it presented itself.
"Don't worry about me and the artifact," she replied, waving one hand dismissively. "I don't want anything to do with those glorified paperweights." She closed her eyes and sighed, releasing the tension she hadn't even noticed building up inside her. Things were going well. She had it under control. Mavros was going to be hers. And anyone who tried to get between her and him would have hell to pay.
Opening her eyes again, the mercenary looked at the woman across from her, cocked her head, and gave her a mischievous grin. "I can slow down when I'm dead. Which - mind you - I don't intend to be any time soon. After all," she reached out and picked up her glass of ale, bringing it to her lips, "I still have a lot of work to do." She drank, not even minding the taste. In fact, it had become almost palatable. Almost.
![[Image: NbE3ZJ9.png]](https://i.imgur.com/NbE3ZJ9.png)