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[color=6ecff6][h3]Duchess Philomena Ceswick[/h3][/color]
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	The woman seemed to be abashed by her staring, or the fact she had noticed the faint mark on her cheek. It was obvious that she made her somewhat uncomfortable, and a feeling of something else that she could not quite read clearly by her expression. Ashamed of course, or dismayed? What could it be she wondered. Either way it should be none of the duchess concern and as far as etiquette in social positions go, Philomena should just let her go and not further disturb them from doing their work. And servant or not it was rather shameful in her esteemed part to do something lousy as to uncouthly stare at her, it was rude, pitiful and a taint in her otherwise reputable decorum. 

	Philomena tried her best to gather her self, uncaring of the woman next to her, taking timid sips of her drink as if the encounter awhile ago never happen. Truly she did, but it proved to be a challenge when she saw the lustrous smile, curving from her lips. And oddly enough, she only noticed now how attractive this woman is. A moment later she finds herself staring again, the unfaze-able duchess is completely caught off guard this time. Displaying a forbearing aura in the most drastic of times was her best faculty, yet for some reason she made all the effort to even express her words straight to this charming woman before her. 

	Although there is still some regard of conduct in their exchange, having someone, a servant of all people, do so much as to warmly smile at her was something definitely new, though she finds it neither a privilege nor an insult to her status. It's just an encounter that is basically nonexistent to Philomena, as she gives out a rather entitled aura about her. Most of the time the lower classes even her own servants would steer clear of her, intimidated and even annoyed by her pampered demeanor and most of the time they are equally ignored by her.

	Philomena then gave her a short nod, acknowledging her concern of her discomfort at the sight of the other woman's bruise[color=6ecff6]"It's alright. And you did not."[/color] She spoke calmly. [color=6ecff6]"I always believe the other desiring parts of the person is enough to mask their perceptible flaws, a tiny bruise on their cheek would be almost invisible to me."[/color] She said unawarely curving a soft smile. When realization came to her, Philomena was almost stunned by her own words. That sounded a bit...inviting, does it? And she swears she did not mean anything by it, even if she did it wouldn't be so brazen. Taking another sip of her drink she tried to "fix" the situation and caught up on her words. 

	[color=6ecff6]"I meant to say it in a general sense. How one would perceive a rose in full bloom, so beautiful that it's ugly thorns would be barely noticeable. And even if they are it would matter little to the viewer, the bud itself is captivating enough to ignore the flaws it hides below."[/color] She stops midway, worried that she may be put off by her babbling at this point, and sooner she regrets her otherwise good use of analogy. She looked down at her drink in embarrassment. 

	Their exchange was shortly interrupted by the rabble, looking over to that direction to see the Marquess of Burlia having a quarrel with one of the guards. She knows him by name and by appearance since her mother had taken notes of the men who will be attending this evening's seasons and even gave her a list for reference. He was sooner joined by Merriedge's duchess, and the two seemed to spark up a conversation. From what she can discern things are looking quite well between these two.

	Philomena returned her attention to the rose garden before her, and was instantly reminded how annoyed and embarrassed she is from earlier, yet all that was hidden beneath her calculating facade. Hopefully she looks convincing enough to the woman next to her. The duchess did not fail to notice though, at the other woman's glancing on the dance floor. How her eyes would glimmer at the people who waltz to the melody with their partners. Philomena herself did not care much for dancing, though she could see this woman may have a great passion for it. [color=6ecff6]"Do you dance, miss?"[/color] she finally spoke. This was a timely chance to change the subject, if only to wash the awkward taste of her earlier display.