[ Medea's lips twitch in some self-directed amusement. A point for Psyche — would that her earlier letters had been so thorough. Although Medea herself isn't immune to the allure of a challenge. ]

A shrewd guess. She said she preferred to keep your confidences. Is she simple for you to understand?

[ Not a question she's in any urgency to have answered. For a rarity, they have time. And in a sense the subject is mere personal curiosity now. She takes her sip and offers the glass back to Waltaquin, trade for trade. ]

So you make a puppet of them? Is there consciousness, or merely the husk of a body? In either case the utility is clear enough. You would be the envy of more than one king, I think.