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[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6f4cc1bf-4142-4feb-a2dc-2df146ed7605.png[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]Multi-Classed Paladin/Ninja[/color][/sub]
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[color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Outside of the Marketplace near St. Paul's Cathedral [/center]
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	The young Apostolic stopped her horse, Cassius, in the middle of the road. A realization had dawned upon her; a sudden movement of mental pins and tumblers unlocking what should have been made immediately obvious when she received the notice from Almack's. Mary simply hadn't the time to travel to the West End Market, not if she intended to fulfill her obligations to her Order. The sudden and obvious illumination caused the young lady mild disappointment. She had looked forward to perusing the wares and fresh produce, maybe stopping in on a merchant contact of hers and getting an earful of the word on the streets these days. But that would have to wait. 

	Mary had also planned on picking up some niceties for Teatime. She was expecting to have a pleasant hour or so with a friend in London for the Season. That would have to wait, too. It was a pity; making friends in this part of the world was difficult for her, in no small part because of her affiliation with the Catholic Church. Anywhere else in Europe and this would not have been in issue in the slightest, but here in England... A couple hundred years of slanderous propaganda (brought on by a monarch denied divorce by the Pontiff) eventually turned into a national identity. That "identity" made life difficult for people like young Sister Mary to socialize. Of course, another contributing factor was her Scottish and Vatican upbringing, which in all fairness was not precisely Finishing School. 

	She proficiently turned her horse around and began trotting toward a much closer marketplace, one just nearby St. Paul's. It was an Anglican holding, as was to be expected here in London. Mary generally preferred to take the longer shopping route, as there were mixed reactions coming from the nearby residents at her presence so close to the central seat of the Church of England. The lady herself didn't have it quite so bad as many other Catholics; she was known around London as one of a Hunter, trained by Rome for the purpose of eliminating the threat of the Soulless and attached to the Papal arm of the Knights of St. Sylvester. It came with a measure of respect for her abilities, just not open-armed friendship. 

	It was for that reason Mary gave a quizzical look to the local Presbyter as he approached her with traditional French greeting. [color=c0c0c0]"Bonum mane, [i]Reverend[/i] Clerc."[/color] she replied with formal, ecclesiastical Latin. Referring to her as Sister gave her a touch of rankle; Mary was not a member of this man's church, as possibly implied. Further, it seemed that everyone in London refused to acknowledge her status as a Papal Dame. Internally, she conceded that it was likely just habit on his part rather than an attempt to be condescending. They were colleagues, after a fashion. Professional courtesy was called for. 

	Her response drifted back to modern English as she continued, colored with a muddled, Scottish accent. [color=c0c0c0]"I do well this morning, Reverend Clerc, with the exception of a sudden change in plans. And persons associated with Almack's are concerned with my sense of propriety for an event later today. I find it offputting when people clamour for my help yet question the manner in which it it provided."[/color]

	Mary exhaled sharply and shifted her Swiss halberd from one shoulder to the other, placing the endcap back into her stirrup fitting. [color=c0c0c0]"Though for Propriety's sake, it is quite unseemly for a helpless young woman to wander without escort. Perhaps you should accompany me through the market? I shall not be long, I expect that fewer people will spit upon my purchases with their Presbyter nearby. But wherever are my manners? How are [i]you[/i] doing this fine morning?"[/color]