[ He'd wondered if the people in this mansion had ever dealt with Cazador, but now he knows. This woman is exactly the same as all of the cronies he'd invited over for dinner and cutthroat conversation. Fancy clothing, a sharp smile, a look in her eyes like she's only trying to size them up to see what she can get from them. If she hasn't met Cazador, it would only have been a matter of time before he sunk his claws into her.

By instinct, he moves his arm away, clasping his hands behind his back — and out of reach. Even if she didn't seem intolerably slimy, he wouldn't be able to bear the too-friendly touch. ]

A lovely offer, but we'd hate to monopolize your time. I'm sure you're a terribly busy hostess.

[ A glance Iorveth's way, and: ] We don't mind showing ourselves around. Do we, Edgar?