You like French saints, huh? No, I was supposed to be a John. That's your hint.

[It's over nearly before it begins, and Joan thinks how clever that was. She didn't have to cut nearly so deep. She didn't have to take so long. She just needed to draw blood.]

[The cuff snaps open. She withdraws her hand, pressing her wrist to her shirt to stopper the blood.]

You want the cuff? Could be a memento. [She's mostly joking.]