'Assassination,' then. They probably call themselves assassins, too - sounds a bit more glamorous than 'murderer,' for all that it's the same thing. Greta tries not to look disgusted and probably fails. "I see," she says dryly.

"Oh. Um..." she flounders a little in response to the Balladeer's head shake. It had seemed like a safe enough subject shift to her, and she's not sure just what she shouldn't be telling anyone. She's assuming none of them can go to her world, so what does it matter what they know about it? Well, perhaps she can just stick to the more universal traits. "Quiet, mostly," she ventures, keeping half an eye on the Balladeer in case he signals her again. "I live in a small village. And we have Kings and Princes, not presidents."