[Her eyes flit over him as he approaches, an instinctive reaction she hopes he doesn't notice in the darkness. For all she's seen and done, for all she's had her fair share of men (and women, now, too, a thought that still thrills her), it's still shocking to see Majima swimming around her with not much on. She can't help the way her gaze traces over the line of his shoulders and collarbone, the way his hair clings to his skin . . .

It's nothing more than a moment's glance, but it's still there. But god knows that question snaps her out of it; Rosalind smiles thinly.]

It's a bit of a story.

[She pushes her hair back.]

But the long and short of it is that I knew too much and ceased to become useful to a very powerful man, and I paid the price.