The receptionist had brought a white-haired maiden, dressed in a blue corset/dress. If there was a little thing Ashton realised about mages, it was that their looks typically fitted their magical capabilities. She guessed that Kyril was a fire mage the first time she met her. This one might have been a sorceress with much do either about ice, or water.

"What can you do as a sorceress, Brea Levoll?" asked Ashton.

The receptionist cleared his throat, as if to answer the question, though a glare from Ashton made him cower back into his chair. Ashton's look implied everything she needed to say to him, and what she needed to say was: "I'll hear you speak when I need to."

Her gaze returned to Brea, and it was the second glance that made her realise the sorceress's beauty. If Ashton had cared about her own feminine looks, she would have been jealous. Kyril would have been, too. But as a young man who most likely fathered a child with a female mercenary during a particularly drunken bender, Ashton wasn't about to think about being a woman.