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The words of the woman felt like a breeze. Something that was soft and careful. She had this way of talking, the way she chose words to form to a sentence. The same way of talking most nobles seemed to carry with them. Rowan didn't know how to do that. She didn't know how to phrase her sentences or how to make her words sound so... eloquent. It had always intimidated her when someone spoke like this.

Rowan couldn't hide the slight confusion and the curiosity on her face anymore. The woman had, yet again, straight forward pointed something out that usually wasn't acknowledged in the presence of servants, or maybe even at all. She had mentioned that Rowan had been hit in the face. The servant blushed slightly, she felt ashamed. It shouldn't have been visible in the first place, but now that the woman had mentioned it Rowan was more than aware of the fact that she also knew that Rowan had been punished for not doing a good enough job. And now she would know that Rowan wasn't a good servant. She would only think less of her.

But there was something on her face, something in the way she smiled that almost made Rowan certain that she didn't think less of her, that she didn't assume that it was Rowan's fault at all - but really it was. The way she smiled, it looked so honest and pure, was beyond charming. She started to explain what she meant with her previous statement and Rowan couldn't help but think... was she babbling? The woman's eyes dropped onto the drink in her hands and for a second Rowan was sure it meant she didn't like the refreshment... but then she realized that it was rather a way of hiding her face. What would she need to feel embarrassed for? Rowan felt puzzled.

Rowan scarcely noticed the lady's attention turn towards the man, the one next to that attractive brunette woman who dissolved the encounter with the guard earlier, and she wondered if maybe the blonde beautiful woman in front of her and the noble man over there would be the match made in... in Merriedge. So she was taken aback even more so when the soft voice of said blonde woman rang to her ear with the question if Rowan danced. Her cheeks burned and she knew she was blushing more than before. Was she meaning to pull the man's attention towards herself by dancing with a servant? No of course not. The noble lady... dancing with a servant girl. How ridiculous. [i]I've been in my fantasies too much![/i] She clearly was just interested in knowing if a servant could dance at all. It was a question, nothing more, just a question, never an invitation.

Rowan thought about her answer. She could be truthful and tell her that she got the bruise on her cheek from dancing at work, but that would give her a second bruise right when the Madam would find her. She had no doubt that the Madam would find out about the things Rowan talked about with the guests. She had eyes and ears everywhere, servants who rotted you out to her. She could lie and tell her she hadn't danced a single time in her life. But maybe that would make the noble lady less satisfied.

"I dance after my shifts sometimes. When I am not in the way of anyone." That wasn't exactly untruthful. But neither was it the whole truth.

A pain in her right arm told Rowan that her limb was getting tired slowly. She was still holding the silver tray with some beverages up, just like she was supposed to. She almost wished she could hand it to some other servant and indulge into the [s]smile[/s] conversation with the woman some more.