"The god you were," she murmurs, low and grim. She can't help but wonder - how much will it say about the Phoenix, and its crimes, and its death?

"I think...I'd rather rip the bandaid off all at once." She hops from the rail onto the deck, landing as light as a feather. "Let's go to my cabin."

It's not really the Embassy, not any true seat of power, but she still feels more like a queen there. Besides, the door locks.