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Before the palace of Queen Heketah, Arsenio Graves stood in his dress uniform.  On his chest were several medals, each from a different act of bravery or selflessness, though they meant little to him.  His dagger had been moved from its usual place on his shoulder to a scabbard above that of his sword, which sat in its own sheathe on his left hip.  As always, his left hand was resting on the crossguard.  Beside the Glacian was Ravyn Ghosteye, a young scoundrel that he had attempted to right over the last day or so.  Whether or not he had been successful was anyone's guess, but he had done his best with her.  With a deep breath, Arsenio closed his eyes and spoke.  [color=FFEF94]"Remember, the story goes that you're my apprentice.  I'm training you to serve as a Glacian Ambassador.  You're new to everything so don't worry about the details."[/color]  With the plan established, he took the first step towards the entrance to the palace.

The inside of the manor was beautiful, a far cry from the inside of the Drunken Unicorn, or even the Nosey Needle.  A quick scan of the entrance hall merited little besides an obnoxious display of wealth, along with a rather cold looking Dujae and a staff member that seemed to be waiting for invitations.  Without hesitation, the Glacian reached inside his uniform and produced the invitation he had received, along with the smaller one on behalf of Ravyn.  [color=FFEF94]"This young lady is my guest, I expect she'll be treated well."[/color]  He continued onto the main room, where he soon felt a magical tug at his weapons.  His dagger lept from its holster and flew to the weapons chest across the room, though Arsenio's left hand held firm to the hilt of his sword.  His eyes snapped to Dujae again as he connected what was happening, and he fearlessly locked his gaze on him.  He approached with his hand still gripping the handle of his favorite weapon, stopping a short distance away from the cold man.  [color=FFEF94]"I'd prefer to keep my sword for the duration of the ball.  I dislike being totally unarmed."[/color]  He came across as firm, though not unreasonable in his tone.
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Isadora Lafay stood at the door to Heketah's palace, awaiting a small number of people.  Namely, Faeril Ashkevron, Gen Saroth, and Rathe Grey.  By extension, she expected Chiya as well, though to a somewhat lesser extent.  That didn't mean she was any less excited, proven by her fingers running through the loose fabric of the [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/56/be/f1/56bef1882eda98582315393c69eed048--black-gothic-wedding-dresses-black-gothic-dress.jpg]black dress she wore.[/url]  As she waited, she scanned the facade of the building, and noted the extreme wealth that practically oozed from the windows.  There was no way anyone, not even a Queen, could amass enough money to own something like this without getting their hands dirty.  She wasn't thinking physically, either.  Heketah had likely manipulated her way to the top here, and now sat comfortably on a throne of black mail she had built from the ground up.

All she could really do is theorize while she waited for the others.  Once they all showed, she would head inside with them, and more than likely stick close to and drop hints at Rathe at every opportunity.