Quentin did not enjoy the words. She might be speaking facts about her father, but even so being referred to as a fool and at the suggestion there was someone who did not respect him his face turned sour. It was only because she spoke the truth that he didn't beat her there and then, but she was at least spared from anything beyond an icy glare that softened as he accepted her words as facts about her father, rather than opinions about himself. It did seem odd that she would risk offending him after everything.<br/><br/>"Hmm. Well I won't risk a public story just for his feeble holdings, so you can't -escape-. There'd be too many people talking..." He went quiet a moment, mulling it over. It was a simple idea, but then he didn't credit her father with much brains either. "I'll invite him around, to taunt him over you. When he arrives, your job is to convince him you hate it here and really, truly want him to save you. I'll give you time alone with him to convince him, your job will be to trick him into playing cards for you. Then when we play, you cuddle into his side, watch his hand, and tell me what he's holding. I take it you understand how cards work, yes?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>