"Mathilda Othenburung-Ziegser," Emmaline added helpfully, allowing the elderly gentleman to lift her hand to his lips in a traditional greeting. The Othenburung and the Ziegser families were both from Averland and were both in the habit of sending their children to Altdorf for 'finishing' as well as the traditional rounds of diplomatic matchmaking which was the usual fate of second sons and younger daughters. The Averland custom of combining surnames made it all the more difficult for anyone to prove she wasn't who she claimed to be, even if there was someone from distant Averland present. It was an identity that Emmaline had tried out a year ago while attempting to swindle a particularly rich, but somewhat dull noble out of a dowry payment. The scheme had fizzled but she recalled enough about the fictional Mathilda that she wasn't worried about being called on it. The greeter straightened and nodded his head before stepping into the main chamber.

"Baron Neil von Hresveig and Lady Othenbrung-Ziegser," he declared in a stentorian bellow. Heads turned to watch as the pair of ersatz nobles stepped through the door, Emmaline's hand resting gently on Neil's arm with proper dignity. The paused conversations resumed after a moment and a small orchestra struck up faintly martial air.

"It is Othenburung," Emmaline corrected the greeters pronunciation though too softly for that worthy to hear her. 

"Though I don't suppose anyone minds too much," she giggled. As they entered the restaurant Emmaline realized that there were actually three subtle tiers that sank towards the impressive artwork at the center, the upper tiers provided more privacy but the inner ones carried the greater prestige with larger tables and more elaborately carved candelabras lighting them.

"My Lord, my Lady, if you would follow me?" a dashing young man in black and white livery asked, executing a proud which would have done the Emperors own bodyguard proud. He rolled his hand in a practiced theatrical gesture and led them towards a white silk covered table. However much Neil had scammed out of the gunnery school, Emmaline suspected tonight was going to take a serious dent out of it. Of course he could just tip extravagantly and ask for the bill to be forwarded to his major domo, a charge that would come as something of a shock to that gentleman, if he existed in the first place. That too made Emmaline giggle as she settle gracefully into the seat which the waiter had drawn back for her.