[She giggles, nuzzling at Jack's nose, his cheek.] I'm all for classy orgies, handsome honey, but I ain't sure how much masks are going to do for anyone back in Ryslig. You might have noticed; people are a little more, shall we say, distinct.

[There's nothing wrong with being a little dazzled by power. It's mostly a game; and that counts, right? It rounds up. It's why the wanting noise that escapes Harley is tempered by another giggle; why there's a grin lurking on her face even as she nudges aside his robe, slides her hands over his warm, human chest.]

Duke, Marquis, Count, Baron. Those are the big ones- In English and French type places, anyway. But really, you could make up whatever you want, it's your court. And of course I want a title- I'm happy with anything, long as it ain't court jester.

[When she looks up at him against, it's through her eyelashes, and her fingertips trail lower, over his stomach.]

And what can this loyal citizen do for Your Majesty, this morning?