Gracie followed the princess - she hoped the girl didn't use this an excuse to simply have her speak the entire time as she did sometimes.  She knew of the woman's anxiety - but the world wouldn't be any nicer to her because of it.  As the maid looked down the hallway with a sigh, she'd see that they were guided for a few turns into what was a medium sized hall - the ceilings went up fifteen feet, and it was no larger than thirty feet long and twenty feet wide.  Compared to her home, this was tiny for what a noble would likely have.  Perhaps it was a sign that they lacked wealth, or maybe it was more that they were practical.

The hall had no guards - perhaps a statement of their safety - and the slave gestured towards a table with some ten seats, gesturing briefly for them to sit down in the two closest to Zarva and a muscular nobleman with a sword at his hip.  [b]"A-apologies my lord.  I will try to be faster next time.  Forgive me."[/b]  The slave seemed a little frightened, but the noble gestured her away with annoyance.  Wordlessly, their escort left the room.

[b]"Lady Isabella, correct?  I am Lord Hasingwrath, though you have met my daughter, Zarva, already.  She told me you had a wonderful voice."[/b]  The lord spoke with a deep, practical tone, and the word 'wonderful' seemed to roll awkwardly off his tongue.  Zarva was looking a little downwards, as if feeling guilty of something.  [b]"Please, sit.  She tells me you come from some sort of fantastical land, but I hope either our ale or mead will bring you pleasure after your journey, little though it may be for you.."[/b]

No servants were around the table - instead the place was already prepared, with the lord pouring his drink from a large bottle-like container meant for the purpose.