Her apparent want to enforce how proud she was that she had written published works only served to amuse Eward more, yet out of a sliver of respect for the woman he did not guffaw as he might have done usually. He took a breath, swallowing down the chuckle, then looked to her with a nod.
"Your books. What about them?" he asked idly, walking to the side and lifting up the decanter, pouring himself more scotch. "You want to ask me not to talk... not to reveal your deadly secret..."