Not Ready.
"Umbra, my King," Giza hooked her arm with his as they stood on the bough of an interstellar cruise ship not dissimilar to the ones the Emporium had designed and used for their conquests across the Grand Collective. "Why are we taking a break at a time like this, Ikaris and the others are separated from Sol again, you should strike them when they least expect it, you are already many times strong enough to kill Ikaris," She pouted, but the man kept his gaze straight and his feet on the solid platform, listening with serenity as the people around them went to and fro.
"I simply want a moment to admire it," He responded after a few people passed them murmuring about Giza's partial clothing which barely covered her. "Also, dress yourself properly, Giza," He huffed and she pouted again and unhooked her arm from his, looking at herself and raising her brow.