Ghisronia watched the peasant boy sit down next to her out of the corner of her eye, grinning ever-so-slightly, and giving her eyelashes the faintest flutter.  

“Nice to meet you, Jobe.” She said softly “My friends call me Ghis.” 

Ghisronia took a voracious bite from her mutton, letting out a little squeal of pleasure as she savoured the taste. Lamb wasn’t her usual choice, but she very much doubted they’d be serving her preferred recipe at this feast, and she was more than happy to scoff down most kinds of meat. 

[i]“Hello!”[/i]
 
The merry greeting pulled Ghis back into the real world. Turning her neck slightly, she saw a girl about her height, with bright green eyes and coppery hair sit down next to her. She grimaced slightly when the girl began picking at the mushrooms, which Ghis had intended to eat herself, but decided it was best not to make a scene. Adopting her most authentic fake smile, Ghisronia greeted the girl in an overly-pleasant manner, channelling her best ditz blonde.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Ghisronia.” She said, with a great big cheesy grin. 

This one seemed sweet and innocent. She’d have some fun with her. 

[i]“Wine, my lords?”[/i] called out a serving boy from over the other side of the room. 

“Over here, please.” She shouted back, gesturing to the empty flagon in front of her. 

Polishing off her mutton, and swallowing a deep burp, Ghisronia picked a few cuts of roast swan off of a nearby serving tray, placing them down on her own plate. Not quite satisfied, she cut herself a chunk of bread and a generous slice of cheese, snatched up two fried squirrels, and scooped up a rack of board ribs. 

Nosily tucking into her second plate, Ghisronia turned to address the pair who were seated on either side of her.

“So where have you both come from?” She asked with just the right amount of feigned sweetness, licking a few crumbs off of her dark red lips.  

She gave the peasant boy’s bulky form a quick look over, smiling just enough to not seem to keen. 

“I’m guessing you do a lot of heavy lifting?” she asked coyly. 

The young woman was quick to make a considerable dent in her meal, breaking it up with occasional sips of mead from the large metal mug. She picked a few sweet rolls off of the pastry tray, absent mindidly popping them into her mouth before leaning heavily back on her chair, causing it to moan rather worryingly loudly as it strained beneath her. 

Her eyes drifting over the other guests, Ghisronia found them settling on the white haired fellow, who seemed to have an air of something [i]other[/i] about him. Her interest adequately peaked, she called out to him. 

“I can’t help but shake the feeling there’s something more to you, sir.” She declared rather suddenly, with a sugary, honey-like quality to her voice, which held an undertone of something a little murkier and more ambiguous; like the sing-song voice of the handsome cut-throat who lurks about in dingy bake alleys, calling out to unsuspecting young girls, before drawing them in and robbing them blind.  

Biting the head off of one of her fried squirrels, Ghisronia undid the bronze-clasped belt she wore around her vast waist, giving her a little more room to breathe as her large stomach oozed outwards.