[ Has she been good at reading her...? Honestly, Elda doesn't think of herself as being particularly perceptive. But maybe it really is just something as simple as the fact that her and Elizabeth are cut from the same cloth. It manifests differently and they're at different points in their lives but... well. They're both scions of rich families, both defined by loneliness.

Or that's how she sees it anyway.

So while her eyes do narrow with a little confusion for a moment as she considers that, she does also shift her hands to fold them together and listen to the woman. As she does, her eyes shift - she's far too used to sunglasses, these eyes keep betraying her emotions because, well... They're in cat-like mode.

Not human, huh. ]

I'm not sure that's something I approve of being secret from my boy, but no, I'll respect that... But that's beside the point here, Elizabeth. The secrecy, I mean.

[ And with quick steps that see her all but gliding around the island towards her. ]

So you feel different?