Fingers, free of leather gloves, searching after the wound to his arm, but it isn't major enough for expression to flicker across his face. With that, Jaime's attention and care for himself fades from focus, enough to look at this lady and wonder, automatically, what she wants; either from him or the Arena as a whole. High courts of lords and ladies were often attracted by events of blood and death, but this seems less the case for Baedal, but there is a sort of affectedness that translates, to Jaime, as aristocracy.

Not that this ever counts for much to Jaime. He's seen the best and the worst of the high born. Just an observation. Just like;

"Perverse," he replies with, after a moment of thought.