His query caused the sorceress to sigh with distaste. She proudly lifted her chin, and in doing so exposing the air to a gentle mix of lilac and gooseberries. Ballads had been written about that scent. Dainty fingers traced over the diamond-studded star at her neck; keen eyes could notice two of those fingers were slightly bent from being previously broken and ill-repaired.
"I warned you about prying questions. I don't care for them and I don't care to answer them. A baker does not ask what is the intention for the bread he sells, nor does the blacksmith for what use his knives will see, nor does the trapper interview the buyer of his pelts. I advertised for a professional, for a business transaction, with the expectation that I would be privy to a similar professional discretion."
Yennefer levied those glowing purple eyes on him, which radiated a coldness that was complimented by the expression on her face, "I certainly hope I have not sat down to what was intended to be an interrogation on my worthiness for the request, because, quite simply, I won't indulge it."