A chill ran up the 700-year "young" vampire's spine as he felt the presence of the ancient vampiress instantly manifest itself behind him. A memory triggered in the back of his mind that caused his heart to race momentarily, and Mithias froze like a human before slaughter. Calming himself, and remembering that all eyes were upon him, that he was a representative as well as himself, he turned to defiantly behold those wild eyes that had appeared out of the shadows. As she began to walk around him, looking him over, he stayed still, facing forward, unphased by her judgement. 

Her powers were unknown to him, and for the life of him, he couldn't identify who she was. As Agent Varomere, Mithias had read everything SOLDIER had documented on all known vampires, especially the most dangerous and influential, but nothing described this vampiress or what he could see of her powers. The answer was simple, SOLDIER didn't know she existed. She was completely unknown. 

She inspected him quickly, his long dark hair, nearly white skin, two well-made swords and several other more hidden weapons, the black cloak and knightly armor, and his fairly beautiful, shimmering yellow eyes. If she killed him, if she could, his loss wouldn't matter in the least, but Bedivere would have been incensed, likely to violence. The whole meeting would devolve into chaos. Hopefully, she only sought a drink and an invitation. Mithias considered how fast he could move and draw one of his bloodletting daggers as agonizing microseconds ticked on. It was the host's place to answer her questions, not his, and Mithias hoped Bedivere's silver tongue would have some smooth words for this very quickly.