The standards of Anna, a person from an ostensibly democratic nation with alleged division of church and state, are a far cry from the standards of Woe, who helped construct the very bones of an imperial cult. What Woe counts as proper manners involves a great deal more immediate submission - but even where she comes from, she is an extremist on that particular point.

“She is, indeed, much nicer than you,” and because Woe is nothing if not an intolerable piece of work herself, “And prettier.”

“As for a tea party - I am afraid I shall have to miss that undoubtably unforgettable occasion, as I have absolutely no intention of returning ‘top side’, so consider the offer declined.” Woe flicks her hood back up over her hair and does go so far as to snort this time, in a refined, polished sort of way. “Contain your heartbreak, if you can.”

Dinah is already by the door, as if by magic, or the power of conflict avoidance. Woe gestures to the unnamed young man who falls into step behind her obediently, and outward they will go. Usually, Woe might offer some refreshment or rest before this departure, but ‘Venus’ should have no need of it - and the sooner they’re quit of each other, the less volatile the sitation will be.