"I would not have asked, Mr. Goemon, if it were not," Galina replied smoothly, perhaps a touch colder than was necessary though that smile remained in place, exactly just so. 

The corridors of the [i]Empress[/i] were not wide, and so the women remained arm-in-arm as they walked almost leisurely to the ladies' state rooms, while Goemon oh-so-gallantly fell behind them, their attentive and charming escort down the hallways. And so, the conversation to their room was necessarily short, though unfailingly polite, the masquerade of camaraderie and ease a simple enough affectation. Any number of passers-by would be taken with the impression of a most interesting and exotic trio of people, comfortable and quite content in the interest of their own company. One might even be forgiven for imagining that these three had been long and fast friends for many long and happy years now.

The rooms themselves were sumptuous, with all the comforts that the more well-heeled of the [i]Empress'[/i] guests would have considered a necessity during their travels. Amidst this Western luxury, the velvet-covered sofas and the marble-topped tables, the tray of delicate chocolates and the gilded lamps, the fresh flowers and the leather-bound books left in the sitting room, the two women took their short leave of Mr. Goemon to wait while the pair retired to their boudoir.

Galina and Klara exchanged few words before she left the rooms - there was no need. Not yet. This was only a meeting with their contact after all. The details of their final departure from the [i]Empress[/i] would be fully outlined and relayed to the Baron Demidov before she ever left the ship, and Klara would begin the outline of that missive while she met with Slevin. The details of course, of departure and retrieval, names and dates, coordinates of latitude and longitude, would be better filled in when Galina returned.

For now, it was enough that Klara aided Galina in changing her clothing, the emerald green and gold dinner dress exchanged for a far less brilliant and eye-catching dress of dark grey and ebony. And though all seemed most proper and right about her dress, sleek and streamlined, the younger woman still slipped her kindjal into a boot sheath crafted especially for her traditional weapon; the Colt .45 was strapped to the opposite side, holstered at her thigh and all well hidden beneath the crinoline of her skirt. The juxtaposition of ancient and modern, the Old World and the New, managed to bring a small, genuine smile to her lips, however short-lived. The shashka still packed in her trunk would have given her no small amount of satisfaction, reassurance even, but there was simply no carrying that blade without notice...

Galina sighed softly as Klara fussed over making that last bit of preening of her beloved little girl just, tucking a more stubborn tendril of deep brown hair back into the sweeping cascade of plaited and pinned up in the back of her head. Quickly she took the elder woman's fingers in her own hand, kissing them tenderly before she stood and went to meet the spy waiting in their shipboard parlor.

"Shall we, Mr. Goemon?" Galina asked, her musical voice piping with an anticipation she forced herself to believe, would be genuine soon enough. Her misstep during their dinner had thrown her, in large part for the fact that she had somehow managed to sabotage herself, even for the space of a few moments. Galina's own thoughts had betrayed her, however well she hoped the recovery of her dignity and professionalism may have played out, and that was the most disconcerting aspect of those entirely mortifying moments.

Galina slipped her arm into Goemon's with a nod of her head toward the door - and beyond that, the hallway, and the long-anticipated meet with the mysterious defector Slevin.