[ There is something intense in his eyes as she watches her hands, watches the scarf slip from her neck and be discarded. Something else, this woman, deadly and dangerous, a tiger in glittering jewels and yet. His eyes glance the curve of her jaw, the lines of her neck, and he wonders to himself if her skin there is soft like silk. Wonders how it would feel beneath her fingers.

Ragnar exhales, fingers curling into light fists, her hands bringing forth the jewel. Surprised the viking shifts towards her, closer, putting aside the drink he had been nursing. ]

How generous. [ Desperate, perhaps, it speaks of how much she needs them. Needs him, his reputation. The mayhem he will cause for her, directed in just the right places. ] With this you will have them wholly, blades and guns, they will fight your beasts with songs upon their lips.

[ As for him? Well, the queen does not need to buy what she already possesses. ]