Death comes no matter how you may bleat and cry in your stone cradle, stripling. Worry not.

[ All said in a tone as if they're just discussing the weather, nbd.
Continuing her slow circuit of Magnai's "throne room" with a leisurely pace, she pauses in front of one of his Buduga cronies and bares her teeth in a distinctly unfriendly smile. ]

Business unrelated to you, Oronir brat. Be silent.