The term "docklands" had slipped from her lips more out of habit than anything else. It was a term her father often used for the area by the lake where her family's ship was usually docked. In truth, it was a place where she could catch a transport back to the Black Kite. She contemplated mentioning this, but the playful tone of their conversation made her hesitate. She was enjoying their banter, and there was a certain thrill in dancing around the truth.

Isis couldn't help but find Rhys' honesty both refreshing and endearing. The idea of a lady appearing "roughed up" was certainly not the usual scene for a constable to encounter, at least not without the woman also being a prostitute, but he seemed too polite to add that particular detail. She listened to his explanation with a teasing smile, allowing her fingers to gingerly graze over the swelling on her cheek contemplating the extent of her injuries. "Ah, well, I do have a talent for turning heads," she quipped, her tone flirtatiously light, but accompanied by a rueful, sardonic chuckle

The night did seem less daunting with company, not that she would ever admit it outright. His mention of the unusual timing drew a chuckle from her lips. "I must confess, Officer Rhys, I'm not exactly known for usual behavior," she replied with a sly grin. "I suppose I like to keep things interesting."

The image of her battered face, a nightmare vision in the dim light, juxtaposed with her playful demeanor. She glanced up at him. "How has your no doubt honourable duty of keeping the village safe from all the nefarious characters lurking in the shadows gone this evening?"