"Very well." Gods, but she's so tired... and what does she have to show for any of this save the meager scraps she's gained? Her steps halt. She looks to Kebechet. "Whether you speak truly to me or you mean to make a mockery of what I've experienced is irrelevant. Why I fight doesn't matter to either of us--only that I do. You, personally, may not have harmed me or mine. I respect that you have the decency to speak as opposed to kill on sight, but I trust very little of your true motivations for bringing us here."

She trusts nothing of this place, much like she trusted nothing of COST at first.

"Is it to convince us to join you? No. You'd not leave us scrounging for scraps else wise, nor would we be deprived of sleep, living in an ever-shifting room shining lights in our eyes, blinding us. Perhaps you corroborated with the lions who killed the consort you spoke of. Whether you directly or indirectly aided them doesn't matter either, because you protect them now."

Nothing she could say would satisfy them. Avenging Drogo is only part of the reason she fights. It's her children. Even the hint of promise of having a child is enough to draw her into this war, and she would fight until her final breath. She wouldn't lose another child... not even one she would never meet, but another version of herself in another world would.

She wouldn't lose Jon, either.

"Listen to me carefully: release me and my allies, and you will be spared. Harm them or I, and you will be shown no mercy."

She would see to it, personally.