The man eyed her when she made her demand. His eyebrows were arched questioningly, but his eyes flickered with the rare sign of mirth. It was this latter emotion that saved him from punishing her over -- or indeed even mentioning! -- her moment of giving a command. Instead he settled with a nod, and turned to lean his back against the warm bath as he considered his options.<br/><br/>On the one hand, cards were by their very nature a risky business. There was a reason he gambled rarely, and with little, and he didn't intend to change that simply to harvest another struggling business. On the other hand... Quentin was a cheat. And that gave a distinct advantage in games of risk and chance, after all!<br/><br/>His fingers kneaded his temples as strands of ideas got threaded together into the beginning of an idea. As one began to form into something bordering on a coherent plan, he turned his head toward his bathing slave. "Does he trust you? Or, I suppose, could you make him trust you? Is he a gullible fool that would still dote on a daughter after giving her no cause to be loyal?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>