I hope not /too/ happy, because that usually means you’re in some kind of trouble.

That explains my headache.

‘Hello’ would’ve sufficed, you know.

(A pause — she shifts her weight from one foot to another; considering.) I do hope you will be wise enough to not play games, Merlyn. There is very little that will stop me from extracting that information out of you by force, if you dare to.

You can’t fall from grace if you’re the heir to Hell. (She’s unimpressed— glaring, and remaining in her passive position for now.) But speak. I might be interested.

Address me properly first, Detective.

That’s no way to talk to the mother of your child.

(Arms crossed against her chest — a short blade hidden beneath her palm. Just in case.) I could, perhaps, “off” you instead. And I’d ensure that “green puddle” could bring you back over and over again until I am bored of you.

There’s a good, green answer to that. I would not count on it for yourself, however.

My father’s legacy belongs to no one but me.

No. (Already kicking him in the chest with all her strength.)

Missed me?