"You and Lotus are respectively numbers five and six. So I suspect the question is, is this your first time being kidnapped?" 

Her head appears from the side of the screen to peer owlishly at you, tilted. 

"You are in my care. The conditions of that care reflect on me. It would be improper if the lady Lotus and her... hm." She frowns as she searches for a word. "Companion. Her companion were not treated with the respect they deserve, even in captivity. Now. My job is to do improper things, when there is a need, but there isn't one here." 

She raises an eyebrow, and then slides back behind the screen fully.

"And so, your training, safety, and other such things one does for those in their care fall to me. There's a famous story of the heir to House Kemaal being taken captive, and the next day the responsible party hired the family's swordsaint to continue his training during the negotiations for his return. That is the honorable and just thing to do, because you are not my enemy, you are my prisoner. And so. Respect due to the lady Lotus of Tranquil Waters, daughter of the goddess Sapphire Mother of Lotuses."

There's a final shuffle of cloth, and then Piripiri folds the screen to one side, a deep bow and outstretched arm presenting Lotus.

She is veiled. It would be improper to leave one of the cloth unveiled, and so there is a azure translucent cloth across the lower half of her face, covering bright lips painted a shiny copper, in turn parted around rainbow layers of fine silk scarves muffling anything she might say. Turquoise is painted on about her eyes, a contrast to the warm brown.

Turqoise also sparkles against her skin, a shimmering dress hugging her form, accenting curves of the hip, the chest, the thigh without demanding the attention. A black, translucent overrobe covers it, accented with embroidered pink petals across the body. It was likely meant to look like they're flying about in a breeze, but here they float on the blue, guiding the eye in one curve up the demigoddess. Overlarge, flowing sleeves lend a fluid grace to her pose, the robe loose enough that her shoulders are left bare, skin exposed. Heavy obsidian beads form a bracelet around each wrist and a choker about the neck, glinting in the afternoon sun filtering in through the windows. She's barefoot, and the black silken cord keeping her here fades into the background against the display.

She is the water that nurtures the fields, the water that quenches fire and rage. She is, for perhaps the first time, being celebrated for herself. And Piripiri sincerely hopes Han finds her radiant.