Wlodzislaw has taken up residence in one of the chairs by the fire, pouring over a tome twice the size of her lap. Its words shift with her memory, saving her the effort of turning pages as handwritten words scroll across the pages like the Kindle of another world's modern age. She stops the letters at last, reading through a pair of specific paragraphs before letting out a frustrated grunt. She slams the book closed as much as she is able given its size and does her best to dramatically slam it on the ground.

She's oblivious to Enjolras' presence, the gesture done for her own benefit rather than for an audience. It isn't until she stands and spins around, perturbed, that she catches sight of the revolutionary. Her expression immediately alters to a smile at the sight of him and she gestures vaguely at the book he holds.

Company and curiosity are more important than the rest. It's precisely the reason why she led so many of the foreigners through the gate, to see what she can make of them and to test their strength, resolve, and interests. Okay and maybe a little bit to help keep her entertained. Being a monk can get tiring, especially when one isn't leaving the city much anymore.

"What are you reading?"