She's not asleep, despite her best attempts. It's difficult to sleep with the mournful howling song of a living blade repeating over and over again where only she can sense it. It's not an audible sort of song, the sort she could "hear" as she hears Valentine's words. It's a sensation that she's never been able to suitably describe, a resonance born from the connection they share that's deeper than blood or magic.

It's comforting, but also incredibly distracting. It also means that Valentine has learned to utilize loopholes, expressing its upset at their separation while still obeying her commands to be silent. Fantastic.

Ivy sits up at the sound of the knock, settling her boots on the floor and brushing her hair back. She looks up at Cullen and can't help a little smirk. Whether from the understatement or some inexplicable pleasure at seeing him again, she's not sure.

"Indeed. I only hope it's not taken as a sign of madness." Her smile turns a bit wry. "Is there something I can clarify for you? I'll answer anything if you'll only give me something to read."