“Only watching. Of course. Some might say those are one and the same, at times.” Certainly when you’re watching from the shadows on a rooftop that by all accounts, you should not be on. That does tend to tip the watching into something far closer to lurking. Not that he’s the first person with a tendency to lurk in her life.

The only stranger, however.

And he knows her name. All of it. And what’s more, he says it flawlessly. As though it’s less than the mouthful it is. Which is a rarity. Instead of reacting in whatever way he might wish her to, she steps closer and smirks up at him. “Just call me Cassandra.”

Not one to give straight answers to a random stranger on her roof (or to anyone, truly; Daud perhaps stands the strongest chance of drawing one from her, of pulling honesty from her), she counters his question with one of her own. “Why does what I may or may not be escaping from interest you?”