[ Well she can't say the question isn't warranted; her expression narrows into one of intense suspicion, a common enough look for her. Still, she can recognize that an answer quickly given will lead her into conversations she'd rather not have at the dinner table with strangers.

So instead she simply shrugs. ]

Did no one ever tell you that it was impolite to ask a lady for her age?

[ Her voice is light, although the tone is still jarring, as the undead usually are. ]

At least not without answering the question in turn. How long have you been alive?