She is busy, ever busy. Despite her age, a queen bee, manning the hive. And how she feels right now the urge to sting.

Her grasp of the cane turns mean, tight. That cursed Batthour...

"I would consider. Of course. We all consider. The price of giving is determined by, ahh... ahhh. What, what must be taken. It would depend what is asked. Then, I make price. I am not... " She waves her free hand, as if to all back the old king's abuse. "Taking advantage."