"I think I have... troubled her enough." She is wicked, certainly, but not cruel enough to give Wren that headache. Even so - her hand waves. Shaking her head, that laughter stilling in her chest.

Templars were but the Order, in another name. "They are like all great organisations built to a higher ideal, eventually, their own weight destroys them." She takes a mouthful of wine, holding her fingers to her lips as she swallows. "In any case, if I worked that close with others, it would rather defeat the purpose of being able to hide that they are ageing, and I am not."