"Indeed?" she asked mildly, thinking on those words. For her part, she'd been very careful. The people from whom she'd drunk were yet alive, their minds gently wiped of any memory of what she'd done. She'd been careful and deliberate in every move she'd made, in her attempt to ensure that she made as few waves as possible. True, in the worlds where she'd been placed, she'd drawn power quickly -- but she kept a low profile. She had no desire to rule, and no ambition to relive her days as Chatelaine if doing such was not for the people of Kenyon.
The truth was that she always preferred the life of a scholar. Had she not been the daughter of Sirenna Kenyon, and had she been allowed to keep her mortal life, she would have chosen to be an acolyte in the temple of Amasa - for she had been her goddess, even as a human. Rayne stroked the base of her glass softly and watched the aliens from under the long sweep of lashes.
"I take it that our companions have not been as...subtle... as I, then..."
She didn't know many details of the lives around them, but she expected that Piotr did. She lifted her ice blue eyes and looked then at the young man across the table. If necessity had demanded by now, and she had taken his blood, perhaps she would know more now of his thoughts. As it stood, she didn't; and that link between those she drank deeply from was not worth the cost. No, she wouldn't accept that noble and tantalizing offer of his unless she had no other choice. He deserved to be as free of her as he could be.