"Oh! My deepest apologies, I'm just soooooooo very nervous! This is my first time gazing upon your most exalted magnificence, and I'm just, like, so overwhelmed? You're even more beautiful than I'd heard! And your voice is just, ooh! It makes my spine feel all tingly!"

Étoile giggles breathlessly and sways her hips first this way, then that, then back again. She reaches up with both hands to tug on and run her fingers worryingly through the tip of her ponytail while her foot continues twistly shyly into the ground. Every move is carefully chosen to emphasize her best features. Here she subtly squeezes her arms together to push her chest out, while her little foot twists constantly put her dancing pant legs in motion. And always her fingers draw her eyes back to her long, golden hair, which they have not let her do more than trim since she was purchased. If she were working on Her Ladyship, this is the moment she might touch a hand to her cheek, but without the intimacy bred by familiarity, that would be a bridge too far. She refrains.

"And your party! It's so amazing, the decor and the venue and the, oh! Oh! Something this grand could only arise from a mind as deep and sharp as yours, O Exalted Grace. And, and My Lady is my dawn and the beating of my own heart, b-but... I, I so rarely get to gaze on sights as wonderful as these. And as soon as I'm dismissed here, I'll have to as quick as I can back to her side. So I was wondering if you could just... not? Dismiss me? Just yet? Oh, I promise I won't take up any more of your precious time! You won't even know I'm here, I promise! I only want enough time to properly worship here, and I know My Lady would smile on me if she knew I did so by your leave!"

Ugh.

Even from all the way across the room, she can [i]feel[/i] Celestine glaring at her (no, through her). Well don't you worry, [i]crevette[/i], big sister is at her limit too. There's a flame burning so brightly in her heart she won't be able to hide it for very much longer. She glances up, just for a moment, at the visage of Jerioth ab-Ishtar, her eyes sparkling with ditzy hope. And, a layer beneath that, a plan.