There was an amicable silence between them for a moment, broken only by the clatter of wheels grating against the bumpy road and the creak and jingle of the horse's tackle. But then Rohaan turned, peeking through the little curtained opening of the carriage and studying his sibling with luminous eyes. "You're awful quiet...What, are you nervous, or do you not like my plan? C'mon now, you [I]know[/I] you wanna watch them eat the floor in frustration as you all sit down for some courtly feast and the notorious Rohaan Ja'aisen sits down among them?" he howled with laughter, real genuine laughter that made his stomach hurt. "Damn I bet they got good whiskey too." Rohaan loved whiskey. He loved all sorts of libations, but whiskey was a personal favorite, second only to good strong ale and rum with a bit of lime. 

"Should we practice, V?" he cleared his throat. "Sorry, [I]Princess Andromeda[/I]." He seamlessly shifted into a near perfect copy of Lord Girard--a local baron with a portly waist and a puffy mustache. Rohaan had been casing the palace for months, sneaking about in the shape of a cat, a rat, or a bird--whichever suited the moment. He'd snooped on lords and ladies alike, learning the secret things whispered only to their handmaidens and advisers. With Vequaniel's help, they'd compiled a book of dossiers on near everyone of importance in and around the palace. He knew them all. 

He combed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "My dear lady, tell me about your home country of..ah...erm...I don't know I've ever heard of it. How odd!" Rohaan was, of course, excellent at changing his appearance. But he was also a skilled actor, too, and that usually sold whatever shape he put on.