Going to the Highest Bidder!

["Felizia al-Bahir" <felizia@angelfire.com>]

Dining Room -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)

Lining opposite walls of the dining room are several booths, each containing its own table. Above each table is a dim glowglobe with a conical ray of light downwards. Set apart from these, at the back of the room, is the long table designated as Imperial. Open entrances let in the brighter light of the lounge and lobby. The room is carpeted in a dark emerald color that matches the verticle stripes that run down the white walls.

Players:

Fahahd Ulricke 

Caeciliah Pers

Exits:

Corridor <SW> leads to Lounge -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain) 

Arch <S> leads to Lobby -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)

 

Pers's lips twist slightly into a faint ghost of a smile in agreement. A waiter is summoned, brief words exchanged, and the man shuffles off towards Ulricke and Fahahd.

"The presence of the Lady Harkonnen and her escort is requested by the Lord Regent of House Alvstad and his companion, m'Lady," he says with a stout bow. "May I escort you to them?"

Ulricke's eyes go wide at the invitation, her smile outright wickedly merry. "Alvstad wants to go slumming, Fahahd." she notes gleefully. "Shall we satisfy their desire?"

Fahahd allows himself a slow, feline smile, complete with a lazy blink of the green eyes. "Certainly, my lady."

Using Alvst, Caeciliah raises an eyebrow, "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..."

Caeciliah appears to be engrossed in a conversation with her companion, allowing the rather brazen remarks of the Harkonnens to fall on deaf ears while she awaits their arrival with noble poise.

Pers merely inclines his head in response to Caeciliah, expression stoic as usual. The glint in his gray-green eyes, however, indicates a rather active interest in the events about to inspire.

Two chairs are positioned around the table as Ulricke and Fahahd are led over, the seating so arranged that Alvstad faces Alvstad, and Harkonnen faces Harkonnen. At that time, drinks are brought out; a glass of Giedi red for Caeciliah and Alvst vodka with water for Pers. Twin glasses of Giedi Red are also set out for Ulricke and Fahahd until they place more specific orders.

Ulricke lets Fahahd pull out her chair and seats herself, long legs crossing over each other in shameful display. "Pers Alvstad," she coos, "It's been -ages- since I've seen you! Did you miss me while I took my snow holiday on Giedi Prime?" she lets her gaze fall on Caeciliah. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

Pers nods pleasantly to the Baron's daughter. "The Lady Ulricke was of course remembered with fondness," he says with his characterist lack of general merriness. "May I introduce the Lady Caeciliah Helmsgillar, recently arrived from Alvsgaard?"

Fahahd is demurely silent, as he seats first Ulricke, then himself. He flicks his robe out from beneath him, as he settles primly in the chair across from Ulricke. His gaze rests mostly on Caeciliah, mildly curious.

Caeciliah :'s face remains slightly haughty as she inclines her head, "At your service, Your Ladyship." the only action betraying any motion at all being the tiny flicker of her blue eyes, though that could signify anything. Fahahd, for the time being, is ignored as the sycophant that she assumes he is.

Ulricke smiles just as pleasantly. "Welcome to Kaitain, Caeciliah. Have you enjoyed your time here thus far?" she then adds with a much more animate glint in her eye, "And have either of you met Lieutenant Alaurans?"

Caeciliah inclines her head again, "It is, different, I thank you for your welcome, dear. And no, I know the captain not." her Galach is heavily accented but easily decipherable, and the Alvstad influence adds to it a pretty lilt.

Pers doesn't so much as bat an eye at Caeciliah's speech, although it's clear her Galach is what you would call 'rustic.' Which is a significant improvement over the previous state of 'god awful.' "Will the Lady Harkonnen and her escort order drinks?" he asks, sipping once more from his vodka. "The Lady Helmsgillar and I were about to enjoy a late supper."

The guard cradles the goblet of Giedi Red in one hand, swirling a little to make the 'legs' of the wine appear. He simply inclines his head and murmurs in his own harshly accented Galach, "An honor, my lady." He doesn't look particularly honored, though....more curious as to why the Alvst lady acts so old when she appears so young.

Ulricke ah's. "You caught us just as we were ordering. Ah, here's my Grumman white..." she takes her wine from the waiter and sips from it, addressing Caeciliah. "That really is a cunning dress, my dear. Quite the fashion - I had one just like it when I was fourteen."

Fahahd places a request for Caladanian rum - the time he's spent with that Atreides has corrupted his palate, it'd seem.

Caeciliah smiles a frigid little smile, "Why thank you, dear Lady, I'm glad you like it. I myself am afraid I don't have the /figure/ to wear such a /bold/ creation as you have donned." her eyes sparkle, maybe her Galach is a little better than people think.

Fahahd gives Caeciliah a rather critical look over the edge of his newly-received shotglass. <<I should think not - I could pick this one up and break her with one hand, with that build.>>

Pers wrinkles his nose slightly in thought. Setting his vodka glass down, he notes, "Customs differ, Lady Ulricke," in a grave tone of voice. "The Lady Caeciliah's dress is one that bespeaks honor and station on Thanatos Quartus, as befits a noblewoman, and a widow." His eyes flick briefly back to the Ambassador's daughter, to whom he offers a partial bow from the waist up in deference. "And I am quite sure I needn't say that the Lady Harkonnen's garb would be ill-received on the Homeworlds of many Houses of the Landsraad, as lacking a certain...grace."

There, in the doorway, is the soft sound of bells. A woman, Bajazet clearly by her garb (and slave by the lack of it), stands with a small parcel clasped in her arms. Almost self-counsciously, she pulls the thin veil draped over her head a bit more across her face, looking around the dining room and blinking slightly in confusion. As the waiter approaches her, she looks up at him, sighing audibly. "I... I seem to have lost my way. I was seeking this address here.."

Abruptly, he tries to shoo her away, as she holds out the small piece of paper she clutches in one hand for him to see.

Ulricke says with mild amusement, "Yes, I do keep a rather strict physical regimen to maintain my figure. Most of the ladies of the Landsraad simply don't have the energy to do so."

Fahahd's expression reverts to its former bland opacity, though his eyes remain vaguely disdainful. He sips daintily from the rum, resting his other pam lightly on the tablecloth.

Pers's eyes turn to observe the entering girl with curiosity. Odd little thing. "Although such figures are not entirely uncommon on Kaitain," he says, nodding towards the Bajazet slavegirl. "Rare though they may be amongst women of noble upbringing."

Ulricke notes casually, "Pretty little thing. Bajazet by her gear. One thing I'll say for them, "They've got marvelous horses, wonderful silks, and some of the prettiest slaves."

Fahahd observes, in a nearly inaudible murmur. "Fragile slaves, though..they don't tend to last very long in the arena."

Caeciliah nods her head primly in agreement, "That is certainly and obviously true. Though one would assume that most ladies of the Landsdraad are /too/ preoccupied with duty, to spend much time galavanting about with scantily clad slave-girls and the mercenaries in the service of their Lord." Though her riposte is to Ulricke, her thoughts have strayed now to the man she brought with her, overly vocal for the position he appears to hold, <<I wonder how long that dear little boy would stand up to a real man? He doesn't seem overly fit for one of the Harkonnan slut, but considering her taste in everything else it's hardly surprising.))

As the waiter raises his hand and points her out of the dining room, the slave girl bows her head meekly. "But... please! I must complete this errand! I'm lost and I don't know where else to go!" Her voice rises only slightly above normal speaking tone, but to her ears, it was a squeal, and she winces after it. "Please, sir," she asks, quieter, "Please point me where to go..."

Again, she holds out the little scrap of paper, and as the waiter looks at it he shakes his head helplessly. The directions are, after all, scrawled in Amat.

Fahahd bristles for an instant at the implication that he serves his lord for mere money, before dropping his gaze back to the dram of rum. He's managed to keep control of his color, for once - no blush stains the fair cheek, as he leans back a little in his chair.

Pers cuts in firmly to avert further discussion. "Speaking of which, it would appear we have a scene on our hands." He pushes back from his chair and deposits his napkin on the table, crossing to the front of the room. "The girl may remain," he says to the host. His gaze is turned towards Felizia. "Attend upon us and we shall consider the situation." He walks back to the table, resuming his seat with minimal circumstance, vodka in hand by the time Felizia has joined them.

Ulricke corrects impishly, "Oh, The Lieutenant isn't a mercenary. He's an officer." The explanation is patient, as if to a simple child. She looks to Pers. "We could feed her and send her back home? That would confuse them terribly."

Pers arches an eyebrow, gaze turning to the girl. "Perhaps. Or, she could be sold back to the Sultan." He turns to look at Ulricke, expression perfectly calm. "Or to the highest bidder." How wonderfully Alvst.

The light sound of jingling bells follows Pers back to the table, though the waiter scowls at the girl's back every step of the way. There, she bows, but then realizes she stands with her head above everyone else. Quickly, she crouches down by the Admiral's chair, head bowed low. She waits wordlessly, but her breath catches in a small gasp as she hears his proposition.

Ulricke hmms. "It's a possibility. My father does so enjoy blondes..." a hand runs absently through her own white-blonde hair. "Lighter blondes, usually, though..."

Caeciliah nods her head in Ulricke's direction, "I do realize that there is rank involved, my dear, /I/ have had proper schooling after all, though it is sometimes difficult to decipher one servant from another." her chilly smile still touching her lips as sshe takes a sip of her wine and casts an appraising eye towards the slave girl, "I do believe, My Lord, that she would fetch a handsome price, do you not think?"

Pers looks at the girl, then to Ulricke. "Would the Lord Baron consider the purchase of this toy, my Lady?" His question is posed without regarded to the little panting thing on the floor next to him.

Fahahd murmurs, silkily, "My lady Helmsgillar's eye for slaveflesh is quite acute...one might even suppose she has made a study of such things, since the Alvst are not a slave-keeping House?"

Ulricke smiles. "Oh, my schooling was quite complete. Enough to know that one does not address a daughter of a House Major with familiarity until invited to do so." Touche. She looks to the slave. "Your name, pretty?" she inquires.

Pers's lips fold into a cold smile. "An Alvst trains in the prices and values of *all* commodities, Leutnant," he replies. "Regardless of indigenous production or otherwise."

Fahahd murmurs something in Suryzo, with the air of one reciting a proverb.

Felizia clutches the parcel to her all the tighter, so wishing to speak but not daring. And then, when she is posed a question, her tongue freezes to the roof of her mouth. Without lifting her head, though she would so like to see the rest of the lady nearby, she answers quietly after another moment's pause, "Felizia, noble lady. And I belong to the most honored Sultan Bajazet."

Using Suryzo, Fahahd says, "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..."

Caeciliah smiles a little more, with a little heart in it this time, these actually appear to be worthy and even intelligent people, with wit no less, wonders never cease, so perhaps the time has come for her to make reparations, "I do apologize, Your Ladyship, my Galach is still a bit lacking, and the formal titles do cause me pause upon occasion. I do also tender my apologies to you, good Luitenant." her wine is again sipped at daintily, her eyes dancing merrily all the while, she hasn't gotten this much political exercise in months.

Using Suryzo, Fahahd says, "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..."

Ash colored brows arch, as Fahd dares look directly at the Alvst lady for a moment. "Apologies, my lady?"

Caeciliah nods her head in agreement, "You do appear to be a worthy opponont, Sir, and thus I apologize for the slight that I made to your honor. Is it not the place of a noble Lady to apologize when and where she sees fit for the furthering of a discussion, and to quell rancour between one house and another?'

Sen enters from the hotel lobby.

Sen has arrived.

Ulricke says smoothly, "For the implication that you were a mercenary, Lieutenant." she then turns her attention to the slave. "Look up, pretty. One can't be an exceptional slave if one is forever walking into walls, and we wish to see your face."

Fahahd's tone remains cool. "I have no honor as such, my lady, being merely a pyon by birth. But I am indeed honored to be deemed a worthy opponent."

Using Alvst, Caeciliah smiles, "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..."

Felizia lifts her chin, tipping her face upwards as she is bid. But to keep her eyes from straying to anyone's face, the remain modestly lowered.

Caeciliah shakes her head, "As you wish, sir." she looks back again to the appraisal of the slave girl, "How old are you, dear?" her Alvst mind working out prices even now, after all, that's what she's trained for.

Pers takes pause to finish off the remainder of his vodka and to toy with the fried-kelp salad set in front of him by a passing waiter. His reply to Caeciliah is in Galach; "The choice is yours, Lady Helmsgillar. I've little training in the intricacies of diplomacy." He leans over his dish to scoop a forkful of seaweed into his mouth.

Another question. Well, she's already said to whom she belonged. All Felizia can hope is that they were listening. "20, noble lady," she answers obediently and clearly.

Ulricke mms. "That reminds me, Pers... when will you be having a party? That food you served that one day I visited your estate was exquisite." She's sitting across from Fahahd and next Caeciliah - each person is facing the member of their own house.

The guard knocks back the last of his rum, and sets the glass mouth down on the table before him, ignoring the waiter's wince as the last drops of the liquor end up on the tablecloth.

Pers finishes chewing and swallows convulsively. "We still await the arrival of a full staff from Alvsgaard, my Lady. The turnover with the death of the late Viscount was significant." No further details are warranted. "In the interim, there is the upcoming Moritani fete. Perhaps we could bring refreshments as a gift. I'm sure they'd benefit from a literjon or two of crab juice."

Caeciliah daintily picks at her own salad, and then gestures for the waiter, "Sir, I do believe the need for a second round of drinks has arisen, kindly bring another." she casts another glance at the slave girl, "I do believe, dear, that you are truly the property of someone already, and have no fear of injustice here." she looks to Pers wondering whether he can solve her problem for the lost girl, or one of the Harkonnens perhaps.

Fahahd suddenly holds out a hand for Felizia's note, wishing to examine it.

Catching the motion out of the corner of her eye, Felizia rises and moves around to Fahahd, bowing low as she hands over the small scrap of paper to him. She waits there, eyes lowered, to be dismissed, or the note returned to her.

Sen glides through the arch rather unobtrusively, bearing directly for Ulricke's side of the table. She pulls out her own chair and seats herself at Ulricke's left hand without introduction or pause.

Fahahd frowns down at it, murmuring softly to the slave girl, and himself.

You sense: Fahahd is reading the note, or trying to...and coming up with nothing like what's actually there. He picks out the occasional word, but that's all.

Fahahd hands it back, with a sigh and shake of his head. "I'm sorry...I can't read it either."

Felizia accepts the paper back, and bites down on her bottom lip anxiously. She steps away, but before she does so she bows low once more, and then returns to kneel by Pers' chair.

Ulricke peers. "Is it in Amat?" she inquires. Her eyes flit over to Sen. She smiles warmly. "Hello, Swordmaster." she then looks back to Felizia, and after a moment's thought, says, "Bring your eyes up, pretty. I want to see them."

Pers pulls another forkful of salad to his mouth, bringing his gray-green eyes to stare at Sen. No introduction? Well, then, all the more time to study this thing closely.

"Yes. And Amat and the Erabik I know stem from a common root. I'd hoped that might permit me to puzzle it out, but I didn't have any luck, my lady," the guard replies, apologetic.

Caeciliah also opts to remain silent, slowly consuming the first course of her meal and watching the events going on around the table, without anything pertinent to add she simply observes the newcomer as well as the others, thinking.

Sen nods in return, expression curiously mild. "Young Mistress. Apologies for my lateness."

Felizia raises her head higher, "Yes, noble lady, it is in Amat." Her eyes lift, almond-shaped and toffee-colored, and she picks a spot on Ulricke's face, like her chin, to look at instead of the lady's eyes.

Ulricke grins a bit. "Look. At. Me." she says gleefully, seeming to enjoy Felizia's discomfort. To Pers she offers quietly, "Sen Howyrm'n, Jagerkapitan of House Harkonnen...our Swordmaster. Swordmaster, Lord Admiral Pers Eskilen, Regent Viscount of Alvstad and Warmaster, and the Lady Helmsgillar."

Sen gives the introduced a glancing nod, one and two.

Caeciliah inclines her own head politely in the direction of the honorable Swordmaster, and then returns to nursing her glass of wine.

Fahahd accepts a glass of water from the waiter, murmuring, "Swordmaster."

It is the first time she's heard mention of the name Harkonnen in this group, and suddenly Felizia shivers, unable to quell the spasm. It takes monumental effort as well, to move her eyes from the lady's chin - meeting the eyes of her betters being something she was trained not to do. But obedience wins out, even if the order did come from a Harkonnen, and she finds herself looking into fascinatingly blue eyes.

Fahahd notes the shiver, and smiles slightly...his gaze sharpening as he watches the little slave.

Pers returns Sen's nod with a grave one of his one, finishing off the last of his salad. As if on cue, a waiter comes in from the kitchen. In typical Alvst style, several dishes have been ordered; one by one they are set on the table, with delicate bone china plates for anyone to partake of what they wish. First is a large bowl of some recently deceased cephalopod...a squid, by the looks of it. The pink, rubbery flesh pokes out of a sea of black in the form of multiple tentacles and suction cups. Thereafter comes a platter of whole fried fish, the scales flaking off in quiet curls onto a bed of mixed greens, lemons garnishing it. Finally is a small plate of unidentifiable wrapped dumplings.

Pers looks at the dishes with a bit of eagerness in his eyes. "May I serve anyone?"

(OOC) Felizia says, "I'm sorry, I'll pass, Pers. I don't eat my bait, as a rule."

(OOC) Pers says, "C'mon. The squid was ordered with extra tentacles!"

Whatever reaction (or lack thereof) Ulricke has, she keeps it to herself. Instead, now that her curiousity is satisfied, her attention turns to Sen. "I got home just a day or two ago, and you were nowhere to be found." she tells the Swordmaster. Her attention turns yet again, to the food before them. "Ahh. What do we have here?"

(OOC) Ulricke on the other hand, loves sushi. *innocent look*

Fahahd also glance at the food, and quickly stifles an expression of distaste. Fish are food for food, not food for men, as far as he's concerned.

Felizia lowers her eyes, and tilts her forehead forward slightly, seeing that the lady is done with her. She sits absolutely still after that, not daring to move, and hoping against hope that the small, quiet sound of her stomach rumbling as the food arrived goes unnoticed.

Caeciliah smiles at Pers, "Why thank you, Your Grace. If I could have some of the squid, and fish... Oh, and please some of the sharkeye dumplings, and do put bit of ink-sauce on them, if you would..." delicacies are not to be ignored, even at the distaste of others at the table.

Sen's over-large eyes swivel over to consider the slave, not the prepared food, when Pers offers.

Pers selects the top plate and layers a carved section of squid delicately to one side. A fish is placed opposite it, and some of the brinesquid ink sauce is pattered in the center, drizzled outwards to resemble a river of some sort. Two of the dumplings, stuffed with jellied sharkeye over rice, are placed in a cluster next to the squid. Overall, a quickly done but very aesthetic presentation; the plate is handed to Caeciliah. "What piques the Lady Ulricke's fancy?" he asks, turning to her. "The cuttlefish was brought from our own aquariums at the Estate; I highly recommend a sliver."

Ulricke hmms. "The sharkeye does look intriguing...and I'll trust your judgement and try the cuttlefish." Unlike her fellow Harkonnen, Ulricke seems quite eager to try the seafood.

Caeciliah reaches out a hand to accept the proferred plate and selects the proper three-pronged seafood fork, she does however, as manners dictate, wait to eat until all are served.

Fahahd does venture to try one of the dumplings, letting it sit on his own plate until the nobles have begun.

Fahahd also makes a point of quickly using one of the mini-snoopers on both ulricke's and his own plate.

Sen watches Ulricke attentively as she makes her choices. Well, if the Young Mistress is having some, she might as well. "I'll have what my Young Mistress is having."

On this occasion, Pers chooses mainly tentacles from the cuttlefish, draping them across the center of the plate with just a bit of brinesquid ink sauce. Three dumplings are positioned on either side of the squid, along with a small pile of greens from the fried fish. A second plate is prepared for Sen, containing precisely the same quantities of each item, but in a different layout. Finally, Pers himself picks up three fried fish and piles them onto his own plate, taking two dumplings as well.

Felizia sits still as a little statue, her head remaining a precise angle slightly downwards, eyes riveted on the floor. The parcel remains in her hands, though the small piece of paper has since fluttered, unseen, to the floor.

Ulricke grins. "Do you have any dumplings left over, Pers?" She gives him a conspiritorial grin.

Caeciliah sees that everyone has something to eat but the slave-girl and gestures to the waiter, "Sir, bring this girl a plate of something from the kitchen." hey, everybody's allowed to have a soft side. And with that done, she begins eating with a delicate gusto.

Sen watches the slave-girl with the expression a mantis uses when it looks at a moth, as she eats, not at all distracted.

Pers pauses his own meal to pick up the serving spoon. "There are several left; does the Lady Ulricke desire another?" he asks.

Fahahd consumes his little share of the repast in quick, neat bites.

Ulricke looks positively delighted. "Would you begrudge me just one more, an it please you?" she purrs.

Her eyes yet cast downwards, Felizia does not seem aware of Sen's gaze. Though, another, smaller shiver passes down her spine.

Pers scoops up a dumpling and deposits it on the edge of Ulricke's plate, nested just on top of the mixed greens. "I hope you enjoy the repast, my Lady," he adds as he returns the serving spoon to the platter and begins attacking his fried fish head. Clearly, he does.

Caeciliah continues to eat in relative silence, enjoying her meal as few besides the natives of Alvstaad do, though the Lady Ulricke seems to be an exception, with her enjoyment of her meal.

Ulricke spikes one of the cuttlefish, and places it in her mouth, closing her eyes with pleasure. "How lovely." she picks up the single dumpling in her fingers and says, "Come here." to the young woman kneeling on the floor.

In record time, Pers completely clears out his plate. One learns to eat quickly in the Noble Alvstad Navy, lest someone else claims your food. He sets his fork down lightly and pours himself a new glass of vodka, having been sipping on water throughout the meal itself.

Felizia shuffles closer to Ulricke, not seeing the dumpling in the lady's hand. She does raise her chin slightly, anticipating being admonished once more for looking down, and seeking to avoid it.

Fahahd has already finished...and has settled down to watching Ulricke's interaction with the slave. Despite the comeliness of the Sultan's pet, his interest remains obviously abstracted.

Ulricke extends her hand, which is holding the morself delicately between her fingers. "Don't make me lose patience, slave. Come get your food."

Sen's interest is rather like her Mistress'. Although... not quite.

That's a Harkonnen hand. But that's food in it. Hmm... to bite, or not to bite... It seems forever in Felizia's mind that she hesitates, but in reality it's ony a couple seconds. She leans forward, opening her mouth to delicately, gingerly take the offered dumpling, and then to remove the left-over sauce with her lips from the fingers that held it. She sits back slowly, barely chewing, mostly just holding it in her mouth.

And now that bit of amusement is over, Ulricke turns her attention to her own food. She eats surprisingly enough, in a similar way to that of Pers, as if she were accustom to a more disciplined, militaristic lifestyle - though with the occaisional embellishment to marvel at the delicacy of it all, and with surprisingly good table manners. If it weren't for the wicked streak and the obvious air of villainy, it'd be hard to believe she's Harkonnen...at the moment.

Caeciliah cleans the last of her dinner from her plate and looks up at Pers, querying as to whether he is ready or not, and signalling that she is.

Pers's hands fall to his lap, where he folds up his napkin and deposits it back on the table next to his dinner plate. "I believe," he says crisply, "That the Lady Helmsgillar and I should depart. Thank you for your company, Lady Ulricke." He pushes back his chair and rises, crossing to help Caeciliah do the same.

Ulricke rises briefly as the pair depart. "It was a pleasure, Warmaster. We shall hopefully see you at the Moritani fete?"

Felizia's eyes widen as the Admiral stands to leave. More importantly... leave her here... with these Harkonnen...

Fahahd sets his own flatware aside in a nearly prissy motion. his own manners are far better than one might expect for a Harkonnen commoner - after all, everyone knows hat if youn gHarks don't bolt their food, their littermates will steal it.

Caeciliah rises gracefully on Pers' arm, and releases it long enough to curtsy slightly in the direction of Ulricke, "It was pleasant to meet you, my Lady, I will look forward to having the pleasure of meeting you again."

Pers offers a stiff bow to Ulricke. "I do believe we," Caeciliah is indicated, "shall be in attendance." He looks down at the slave for a moment.

Using Alvst, Pers frowns. "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..."

Ulricke inclines her head, and performs her signature bow-curtsy - after all, a bow is too masculine, and a curtsy calls for a skirt. It's nontheless courtly and graceful. "Oh, don't worry about her." she tells the man. "She'll not have a hair harmed on her head."

Using Alvst, Caeciliah ponders, "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The little androgyne doesn't bother with the curtsey part. Straight bow for her.

Fahahd bows as well, the deep near-genuflection of a commoner for a noble. He's more graceful than one might expect.

"Your assurances are taken, of course, Lady Ulricke," Pers replies, face serene. "However, the girl was taken by myself; it would not be meet for me to pass her along to another would not be meet."

Instinctively, Felizia shifts where she kneels, and bows low over her parcel to the Admiral, her head nearly touching the floor.

Ulricke grins a bit. "But of course." she grins. "Good bye, little pretty." She sits down, draping her chair and smiling like a Cheshire Cat.

Pers nods curtly to Ulricke. "Girl, attend," he says to Felizia. Taking Caeciliah's arm, he proceeds to walk out, Bajazet in tow.

Scaurus enters from the hotel lobby.

Scaurus has arrived.

Felizia gets to her feet, and bows low to the remainders at the table before dashing off to follow after the Alvst Admiral.

Pers passes through the arch leading into the hotel lobby.

Pers has left.

You pass through the arch and enter the hotel lobby.



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