Under the Maltese Skies

[Omi]

Briefly scrolling through the device Enma offered her, Charlotte paused, her finger hovering over the 'call' button. She inclined her head slightly to indicate her gratitude, but stopped short of actually initiating anything, peering out from beneath her fringe at the now more jovial Maltese woman. She would need to choose her words carefully.

"I don't plan on reading through your things, but I'd appreciate some privacy during the call," she said delicately. No doubt it's all being recorded, anyway. "It's been a while since Claire and I have spoken, to-- say the very least."

The rest, she left unsaid. Her demeanour improved noticeably at the mention of an imminent departure, though; those deep brown eyes widening slightly at the realisation.

"I see," she said, a little taken aback. This was sooner than she'd anticipated leaving. "You wouldn't, by any chance, have any of the escort Lynxes from the Calliope still among your people's holdings?" It was a long shot, but the XJ-3 was not a craft Charlotte was willing to pass up, if she should be so lucky as to find one available to her. The thoughts of them being picked apart by Maltese engineers and technicians irritated her more than she'd anticipated -- no doubt most of the captured craft had already been cannibalised to further the nation's designs and research into Gallic engineering, but perhaps one or two had survived.

"Think nothing of your, ah-- earlier discussions either, Enma. I barely consider that anything happened at all." Charlotte's smile was well-practised, years of court attendance having honed her ability to summon one on command. It didn't quite reach her eyes, though. "I appreciate your efforts to assist my sister and I. If you'll allow me a few minutes to make the call, then I'll be happy to get us underway." Her gaze drank in the sight of Enma just opposite, calculating. If Enma insisted on listening in on the call, would she force the issue or not?

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