"What would it take for you to agree to this?" I asked her.
My voice came out steadier than I felt. Inside, my thoughts were already tangled, bracing for whatever unreasonable demand she was about to throw at me. I had expected resistance—maybe outright refusal—but not this strange, unreadable calm she carried herself with.
"I don't really have anything that I want from you, Princess," she replied, her tone composed, almost indifferent. "At this point, you don't possess what I have."
Her words landed softly, yet they carried weight. They weren't meant to insult me, but they still stung in a quiet, lingering way. It was the kind of truth that didn't raise its voice, yet somehow echoed louder than shouting ever could.
"Then what do you want?" I asked.
"A capable man, perhaps?" she said.
