One she is happy to accept. She would feel strange if he had given her more than that. She shed those trappings years ago, stripped as they had been from her by her enemies, if she is called Rani these days, it is out of respect she works hard for.

"Not so, this is not my land, after all." A careful dance, a step back, what she is laid flat but given over to his command comfortably, letting it hang as it stands before she steps forward in confidence to offer up what she knows.

At the end of the day, she is very, very old. "Many kinds, and I have seen it change over the course of my lifetime. I was raised to the swords and canons, pistols too, arts of that ilk. But that was when I was young, now war is fought with weapons of great destruction of all kinds, no longer in the open fields, but in streets and tight spaces of cities. Both against men and things more terrifying than that. The Lycan and Vampires of my home are not defeated easily, and require great strength and coordination to take down." A shrug, he may pick her brain to its emptiness, if he wished.