And still Liliana had to pull back her own sharp response, her instinctive demand of who was he to try to lay strictures on Liliana Vess, on what she could do or where she could go and when. It was a reflex and she bit her tongue, reminding herself that he had asked, not demanded, and for nothing more than to be informed. This wasn't a claim of ownership, but partnership, for all that that was still such a foreign concept to her. Her temper cooled and she shook her head, fingers sliding between that reaching hand.

"Ravnica," she said quietly. "I went to a show in Rix Maadi, the guildhall of the Cult of Rakdos." She'd washed herself, yes, but blood - and likely worse - still clung to her clothes, the bottom of her boots. She hadn't considered that in her immediate desire to be home. "Whatever blood you're smelling isn't mine. I'm fine, I'm safe. I never was not."

Well, all right, that last was a bit of a stretch. Rakdosian entertainment wasn't something anyone could consider safe. Abyss, one of Rinni's final performances of The Aria of Hilrod had resulted in a cannon tumbling into a crowd as an unmoored girder collapsed onto a half-dozen goblin stagehands. How a show without at least one fatality was considered a poor performance. How she had found an ear in her headdress.

Details. Liliana never considered herself to be in danger to those things. After what she had seen, the entertainments of Rix Maadi held no fear for her.

She brought his hand to her face, then reached for his other to do the same. "See?" she said, trailing his fingers over her skin. "No bumps, nor bruises. Not even a scratch. Just Ravnica."