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Sofia had taken the liberty of dressing herself for the occasion, putting on one of her finer dresses. A modest set of luxuriously handsewn dresses were the only things she had kept when she left home, a physical echo of her former life. The children were all abound with curiosity as to where she would be going in her fine clothes. Most of the girls were convinced she was going on a stroll with some fancy gentleman fellow, and a few of the boys were secretly a little jealous. They didn't want to share their "mother", because even though they had mothers of their own, they were rarely seen or heard. It was Sofia who sat at their bedside in the middle of the night when they were distraught and burning with a fever. It took a great deal of convincing and promising before they let her leave. 

The young woman read her invitation once more while on her way to the headquarters of the Queen's Hand. They were kind enough to arrange for a carriage to pick her up, most likely because she didn't live in South Bank house. This was by choice, she was still unsure if she was going to stay at the children's home. Who was going to need her more, the children or the Queen? If she praised the question like that, the answer was obvious. The invitation however stressed the importance to be part of a team of sorts. Sofia was unsure how she felt about that. She put the letter back into the envelop tucking it into a safe place.  

Once they arrived the footman lead her inside, making small talk along the way, to which Sofia mostly smiled kindly. He opened a set of wooden doors for her, revealing a room full of people. Upon entering the room most eyes darted her way. She curtsied lightly, holding her dress. Sofia took note of a man standing in the centre of the room. He did not make eye contact upon her entrance, nor did he seem to acknowledge her in any way. It was quite strange. Sofia frowned at his lack of manners and continued onwards finding a spot next to another gentleman. 

[color=lightpink]"Good afternoon..."[/color] She spoke in a soft voice. 

The man in the green turban spoke up, drawing her attention back to him. She guessed he was trying to be comical or make them worry, succeeding in neither with Sofia. If they were going to be late it was not by her doing. They should have given her the proper location in the invitation and she would have gone there. Sofia sighed audibly at the request to step a little closer, as to surround the man, who Sofia realized had not even introduced himself. She held her gloved hands to the side, waiting for things to move along.