"A woman of rank?" he replied. He was asking but in a way, it was rhetorical. "It is quite all right. I should probably stop interrupting you" he added, not quite accustomed to handshakes or anything of the sort any way. He drank from his glass and watched her, thinking a little about what she had said.
Tyrion looked at her inquisitively. "Rifles?" he asked her. He had never heard of rifles in his life. But it was something that requite ammunition, so was it anything like a bow? A crossbow? A catapult? That was about all he could imagine, and if that was the case, he could see why she wasn't crafting one at a forge. That was the work of woodworkers.