"You're a brash wench, flirting so blatantly. It's true, I am impressively attractive, aren't I? You should have seen the gold hand," Jaime mock whispers. And then realizes he mentioned a gold hand. The bastard, Jaime Rivers, would have no golden hand. But he doesn't let it known that it was a slip up. After all, he's an egotistical shit.

Why not have a gold hand?

"Yes, and I'm sure the mage has thought about it often. And about half the city that isn't terrified of you coming to breathe down their neck for something. Perhaps the pirate wench as well." He knows her name is Isabela, but he's a little irritated, a little preoccupied.