He could inagine? Could he really imagine? That was unbelievable, but who was she to argue? She did not say anything in response to that. Why should she? Frowning, she releases a slight hmpf before she would sit up to take hold of the glass of sherry that was in front of her. Lifting it, she takes a drink from it before putting it down. Was she actually sharing her feelings? Not in the slightest... Too be truthful, should he really want to know how she really felt and what she wanted, she would have told him that she wished she could dance on his grave before leaving in a fortnight, but alas, that was not the appropriate response.

Tilting her head a bit to the side, she twists her lips in thought.

"How is it confusing? We live and die... If we live correctly than we can hope that God blesses us with old age and a peaceful death, if we live our life being cruel to others than well... You get a death fitting for such."

Shrugging her shoulders, she sits back in her chair.

"I imagine I do... We support each other...."