When Adele begins her apology, Gisele instantly responds with an icy expression; though the Bossartian's appeal cracks through her defenses almost instantly. [color=FF66CC]"... every person here has a name, friends and family..."[/color] Gisele's countenance softens. Breaking eye contact, her face transforming in the span of a few moments from shame, to remorse, to resolve. She returns her gaze to Adele, her expression now set into one of earnest determination as she listens intently to the fair-haired woman's continued extrapolation. 

Djonn's assurances that the White Guard is committed to their safety seem to calm her even more. [color=00FFFF]"Now Madam Gisele, why would anyone have reason to send assassins after Mister Hemming..?"[/color]

She furrows a softly sculpted brow. "I cannot say. But I think perhaps he may..."

"What's going on here?" A voice exclaims from behind Gisele. Emerging from behind a nearby caravan is Gaivus Hemming, walking purposefully forward with jaw set hard. No longer wearing the bright finery from this morning, Hemming wears a dark-colored medium-length frock coat over a high-collared white shirt, matching trousers, and a felt derby. [color=FF66CC]Even from a distance, his clothes are unmistakably Bossartian.[/color]

"Sir, I-I was... Forgive me, I was only..." Gisele trails off, withering under his stare. 

Frustration simmers in Hemming's features, though it never boils. Instead, he draws in a large breath, rubs his temple with the fingertips of a gloved hand, exhaling slowly. "Miss Margot," he says after a few moments, without looking directly at her, "I wish to depart soon. If you would be so kind as to make the appropriate arrangements to ensure that we are so prepared..?"

Gisele nods curtly, and walks briskly back to the caravan, passing Marcel along the way; as she does, she glances briefly over her shoulder at the large Belencrestian. She quickly faces forward, cheeks freshly flushed, and disappears amidst the activity surrounding the wagons.
 
Gaivus follows her exit with a sideward glance before facing the gathering. "Listen, all of you... Please, for just a moment" he says wearily. "I can understand that this, this [i]news[/i] I imagine my steward has shared with you may seem troubling and cause for worry. However, let me assure you: miss Margot's concern, while admirable in one sense, is wholly misplaced." He sighs, removing his hat for a moment to smooth back his dark, graying hair. "Let me make it plain. My steward has conjured a plot from what I see only as coincidence. Pellan Huo's death was truly tragic, as was the wretched affair on the Elkin river. But nothing about these unfortunate events on my journey could be considered connected. Hopstead is, famously, a dangerous city; and the wretches on the [i]Hanyemede[/i] could only be described as mere thieves seeking easy coin." He pauses for a moment, looking back the way Gisele had left, and turns back towards the group. "I certainly appreciate miss Margot's... Passion. But in mathematics, we say that nothing is true until you have proven it. And I simply see no proof."

"So, if there's nothing more, I'd like to be on our way as soon as possible."