Bramblepoint godless and free

At 'already hev queen', Rosalyn's mind was made up.  That served it.  There was no way she was licking the duds of any 'queen', not when there was no respectable gain from where she stood.  A coastal home... that was a draw.  But the three rough-looking vagrants before her?  Not so much.  Unless...

"So this queen... what's she like?"  The question was offhand, but her eyes were sharp as she watched Vlad for his (undoubtedly obscurified) answer.  Perhaps she wouldn't write this off just yet.  Security for the winter, and perhaps a loyal crew to be gained, if this queen wasn't sharp.  And if she was?  Roz could leave, easy peasy.  The girl had no ounce of loyalty in her beyond that which came from equal give and take, and once she was giving more than she was taking, she was done.