[Another unexpected agreement where certain details trump the personal space code for both of them, as long as nobody actually mentions it. Satisfied, Rita nods and straightens back up, mouth thinning into a line.]

Well...you should already know how well this sort of thing protected me against the captain.

[As in: not at all. But since it sounds like Clarke isn't getting any reckless ideas regarding that avenue, she's quickly moving on.]

Maybe if there was a hat or hairband to go with it, but... [She motions to a pile of gold- and fur-trimmed purple fabric and in a corner of the room, topped with matching knee-high boots and a pointy hat. Rita's new set of war gear, so to say, for when she feels it's necessary to have.] Anyway, having your torso protected is way better than nothing.