Losing her grip on the bench, Honour’s head started to dip beneath the surface, covering her ears as Glamerspear asked the cordial middle-aged assassin some new question. Whatever relaxation the earth pony was supposed to have achieved with the Royal Engineer's state of maximum hot-tub immersion was overshadowed by a deep-felt sense of disappointment in her own achievements, frustration as to her ultimate direction, and exhaustion from everything that had happened today. Maybe that's why she’d retreated into the formal execution of her orders 'to the letter,' going so far as to follow her VIP into a private massage.