[right][h3][b][i][color=a187be]Chanteuse Amaranthine[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=a187be]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color]
[color=a187be][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Shadowell Manor: Grand Vestibule (E8 ->E9)
[color=a187be][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] Intelligence
[color=a187be][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color] 4
[color=a187be] ≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]
	Doors closing and locking, doors opening. Amarnathine's fingers tightened around the satchel she held pressed to her chest. Lashes fluttering behind the mask as her eyes blinked quickly. A bottom lip curling in as she watched Lord Ambesire enter. Fine clothing was to be expected considering where they were wasn't it? [color=a187be][i]Just breathe."[/i][/color] Her words were nothing more than a whisper. She could have been speaking to herself, or perhaps to the man that was just behind her. There was warmth in the room but even more on shoulder. Why it was there, did it matter what she thought? Maybe. Her hand went up and over his as the words were spoken, [i]"you were not invited."[/i] That was [i]not[/i] what she wanted to hear. 

	Words failed her, she didn't answer the question. The wide eyes from beneath the mask were probably enough. Anyways, another asked a question and it was good enough for her. Where were they supposed to go from here? Attend as if nothing was going on? Keep the masks on? Remove them? The Lord of the Manor didn't have one on but why bother? It was his home, they were on his property. The thought of being bait crossed her mind and made her stomach do a flip against the inside of her corset. Slowly reaching back she pushed her instrument case to the side, against the arm of the chair, before sitting down. If none of them were invited... she stopped the train of thought as her eyes drifted down and stairs at the cold marble floor. Suddenly it felt very warm in the room.