[It would be easier to deal with if it was mockery. The flush creeps to his cheeks and he pulls a face, folding his arms.]

Something tells me you'd pencil it into the job description even if wasn't asked for. [Less a jab, more a squirmy wriggle out of a tight spot. Richie turns a sound squint to the seated Emperor.]

Honestly, it makes such a ridiculous amount of sense. I would have missed it if you hadn't needled so hard about the murders. You're too sharp for your own good. And the pods... [He shakes his head. It might still be a sore spot, so he'll pull the finger off and press at other matters.]

It's a raw deal, though. Taking the brunt of the society disdain and dealing dirty for the powers that be. But it's...it is noble. Necessary, I guess. I can't begin to imagine a life lived like that.