Dragnelle's grip on her cane tightened imperceptibly, though her outward demeanor didn't falter. "Nah," she replied, her tone breezy, brushing the jab aside without a second thought. "Not my thing."
Without giving Mioura the satisfaction of a reaction, Dragnelle shifted the conversation, her voice steady, almost businesslike. "Uh, my name is Dragnelle Étoile," she continued, extending a hand in a gesture both professional and assertive. "I'm here to talk to you about Myhra."
Mioura arched a brow, visibly caught off guard by the abrupt mention of her sister, but her expression quickly hardened, skepticism etched across her features. "And why would that concern you?" she asked, her tone dripping with thinly veiled suspicion. Her posture shifted, defensive yet still commanding, as though she was preparing for some sort of verbal sparring match.
Dragnelle let the question hang in the air for a moment before delivering her response with deliberate precision. "I'm with the National Intelligence Service," she said, her voice calm and unwavering, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Mioura's skeptical gaze didn't waver as she studied Dragnelle. Her arms crossed, her posture both defensive and commanding. "A Mozambican on the Madagascarian NSI?" she said, her tone walking the fine line between disbelief and derision.
Dragnelle offered a disarming smile, the type that had gotten her out of tighter spots than this. "Well, technically, Mozambican-Madagascan," she corrected smoothly. "My father was from around here, somewhere inland. The accent's not perfect—I get that—but I manage. There's a few of us in the organization, actually. They like having people with cross-border backgrounds for cases like this, where your company's taken heavy investment from my side of the pond."
Mioura's expression tightened, though she tried to mask her reaction with a curt nod. "Well, of course," she said, her words slow, deliberate. "That makes sense. But if you don't mind…" She extended a hand, palm up, her polished nails glinting in the sun. "I'll need to see some identification."
Dragnelle nodded easily, as if the request were entirely expected. "Absolutely," she said, her tone warm. "Good you ask. Not everybody does these days. Shows you've got a good head on your shoulders."