"Not too lucky - he had to have the jaw replaced." Saturday smiles, satisfied. "He got one all golden and pretty and tells a fuckin' lie about fighting off an orc platoon or some shit, but he and I both know he got his jaw fucked underestimatin' me because I was small and cute and wearing a skirt at the time."

She doesn't call herself cute because she thinks she is; she calls herself cute because she was, for that job. It was part of her cover, being a pretty young thing acing for decadence and chafing under her pious guardian's restrictions. Rich men are so dumb.

"What about you?" she asks, her tears drying on her face. "Do you have any really good stories? What's your favorite?"