[His question makes her grin, because with it comes every memory of that question being asked. She had heard it so often. She had heard it when she stood on a pile of corpses, holding the head of her captor. She had heard it as she stood before witnesses that had seen all her cruelty and carnage before they were subjected to it themselves. That question excited her, because with it came every memory of her sadistic actions.]
What am I?
[The grin disappears, and she looks positively angelic] Why, I'm a delicate lady. Nothing else.
no subject
What am I?
[The grin disappears, and she looks positively angelic] Why, I'm a delicate lady. Nothing else.