The moment he sat the vial down in front of her, Morgana reached for it with obvious interest. Her nails clicked against the hard glass she as lifted the vial up in front of her face, twisting it and turning it so that the liquid shifting and moved inside of it. One bright red nail traced a line down the front of the glass as Morgana purred lowly, a single word in an old, magical tongue. The liquid within the vial shivered, a sight which seemed to please the witch, who gave a soft low laugh before setting the vial back down. It would do, for what she intended it.
Looking back up at the alchemist, her expression became more knowing; she more that understood how much he dreaded her saying his real name. The truth was she really had no intention of doing so any time soon, it simply amused her to see him flustered. "Blessed is an amusing way to put it." She picked up another of the items he had brought her, pretending to inspect it and keeping her voice dull and falsely uninterested as she remarked, "Do you know how deeply woven around you that curse is? Like a tree putting out rotten little roots and sinking tendrils into your veins."