Love was a strange notion, it was true, and for one so unused to its company as the Dark Empress, it was difficult to tell the difference between its many rises and dips, the nuances that created love, and lust, and friendship, all one and the same, and yet so vastly different. And so as she gazed upon her longtime friend - though it was with a certain hesitance that they shade admitted even to that - she was unsure of the warmth that blossomed in her breast. Still, her affections for Mauja had taught her, if nothing else, that love, no matter the kind, was not a weak bond; no, if anything, it was the strongest of all. Perhaps, then, one would think that the Lady of the Basin would strive harder for love; but it was not in her nature, and so she only basked in what she already had, not understanding the drive to gain more.

But there was a certain understanding that the two femmes had of one another, a mutual agreement of so many things left unspoken not out of necessity, but out of lack of a need to discuss them further. Even the FrostHeart, as changed as he was by his ordeal, did not understand her basest imaginings, not as the corporal did, and so the kinship she felt with the golden-laced mare was even more pronounced, more defined, that her relationship with the once-king. Would she have it any other way, if given the choice? Whatever semblance of love she shared with Mauja required work, and effort, and a certain level of dedication - not in the form of romanticized loyalty, perhaps, but a kind of unyielding attempt to rid their bond of the awkward antics of youth. But Illynx was easy to care for, easy to like, easy to get on with. She did not have to justify herself, did not have to sell her beliefs, for Illynx was preprogrammed, as she was, to declare herself higher than all the rest.

Perhaps it is this similarity that, rather than pushing the pair to a mutual, hatred-driven competition, pulled them closer together. The jackal, however, would never know the true nature of their relationship, for she did not allow herself to delve very far into such immaterial reveries. The corporal spoke, her lips flattening into a pout, and the Lady shook her head slightly. "Useful... or dangerous. With the right leverage, as you say, perhaps... but without it, disastrous..." She trailed off thoughtfully, amber gaze once more roving the darkness beyond. Her words did not require explanation, for they only reiterated what Illynx herself had said. "Soldiers we may need, but are there soldiers to be had?" she continued to muse, her own lips pursing in concentration.

The Assassins, she had to admit, were a ragtag band of filth, at best. Could they be bought? They could be persuaded to work with - or, rather, for - the Basin. Everyone had a price, after all. But would they prove useful? Or would their efforts prove just as fruitless as they had previously? "Is it worth it, darling? Could they do anything we could not do alone? The time is not right to strike, and yet..." Again, her vocals slipped into nonexistence. Illynx spoke fairly, for they did need more than what they had - but whatever would any mercenaries be used for, in such times of forced peace?

@[tag]
"Talk talk talk."