Even as captivating and extravagantly avant-garde and romantic was the lavish and well played performance of the opera before Irina's dazzled eyes, and the music ever enchanting as it resonated to her ears, the woman just couldn't seem to keep her focus upon the theater troupe's marvelous production in full swing for that long, her eyes skimming about the audience and the stage in hesitance of something, and every once in a while darting to have a quick glance at Crystal, just to make certain the girl next to her was still alive and that no harm had come to the Princess from...the devious and foul creature resting behind her and Irina. Oh...how easy, how simple it would be this very moment for Varros to slip past the firm and vigilant eyes of Irina, possibly to draw a blade to the Princess' frail neck, so eagerly exposed to him, and with one stroke...horror would unfold before the very terrified screams of the knight, or perchance a more subtle approach, such as a poisoned needle or something of the sort, just as dreadful but more discreet than a slash of the throat, and Varros...he appeared as the discreet ones always do, clad in black as if the tattered and menacing robes of the Reaper, dissolving his very slender and malnourished form into the shadows that lurked behind the two women, but....on a second thought, Irina did consider her viewing of what she deemed...had to be the rarest and most obscure sight she had ever witnessed, emotions showing from the man...other than malice. It was as though in that brief visage...she detected some sort of humanistic trace left within that festering mass of terror and inhuman quality, which Irina had to assume...was brought upon by a most painful and agonizing period of his life. [i]Still...it does not excuse his malice towards the Princess and the Kingdom.[/i]

Before she knew it, Act 2 had concluded with one last fanfare from the orchestra and the rising cheers and applause of the audience catching her attention....the rest of the opera having been a blur to her in the midst of her troubled mind plagued with perplexing and bewildered ponderings. After the end of the act, there was a brief intermission, time for Irina to clear her head...once again...and stay focused on the opera, or at least keeping the Princess from harm. "I'm going to step into the lobby for a bit for some fresh air, M'lady." She turned to Crystal and spoke before rising from her seat, carefully making her way through the rows of velvet embroidered chairs and towards the exit into the theater's main lobby as the lights slowly but surely illuminated the performance hall during the intermission. Unbeknownst to Irina though...she had a follower. [b][i]"I can't help but wonder why you detest of me so much, my lady."[/i][/b] She gasped roughly, her eyes widening with an instant spark of terror through her heart. Hastily and with such professional form, she unsheathed the kitchen knife from her garter and whirled around with a shout, plunging the silver blade forward with all her adrenaline, but the knife did not pierce the sickly gray skin of Varros, well...in a way it did, but not of his heart or his neck, no. To Irina's debilitating horror, the blade of the knife....was clutched firm in his bleeding hand. 

With a glower towards Irina's frightened paralysis and with his other hand, he wrenched the knife out of Irina's cold, fearful grasp and tossed it aside nonchalantly, pulling from his coat a handkerchief to wipe the blood away from his wounded hand as he spoke to the frozen woman, [b][i]"Hmph. Honestly now, Lady Irina, didn't I tell you it was a bad habit to jump to hasty conclusions? I mean...I was only here to see if you were well, out of the generosity of my-"[/i][/b] But Irina, able for once to overcome his paralyzing aura, snarled at him, cutting him off rather brash, "Liar! I'm onto you, Varros. I know what you're plotting and you can just-" But just as she rudely cut into Varros, the Lord of Narsil returned the cut in this verbal sparring of sharp tongues in bitter mouths slighting Irina with his signature sneer and insolent dialogue, [b][i]"Plotting? Then by all means, Knight, humor me. Tell me what you believe I am plotting, because in all honesty, I have nothing planned for tonight rather than to enjoy the rest of Poponoriodestia Amour without interruption."[/i][/b] But during his verbal retaliation, the man's voice lowered to such sinister depths as he leaned foward, inclining ever so close to Irina's pale white face full of agonizing terror yet again...his lips ever dangerously near hers as he hissed, [b][i]"....and you my lady....are certainly becoming the hindrance to my nightly plans. Just consider yourself lucky that I do find you rather....attractive."[/i][/b] With such a venomous smirk and that haunting gleam from his yellow eyes, his hand gently caressed the cheek of Irina, leaving a bit of red on her...blood of course from his open wound. [b][i]"And now I must see to these wounds you have inflicted upon me. I suppose you should be seeing to your....appointed duty of protecting the Princess. I mean what were you thinking leaving Lady Crystal all alone this time, especially when you consider me such a threat to her? Fare thee well now, Lady Irina."[/i][/b] But as ever, Irina couldn't move an inch, hardly half an inch either. Frozen was she again by that nefarious man's presence...and his touch...only made the paralyzing aspects of this curse worse...much worse. Finally though, she was able to break herself from that debilitating trance the man placed upon her, but...she did not return to Crystal, but merely collapse with her back against the wall, feeling of her cheek in a state of horrified disbelief. Even for just one grace of Varros' hand to her skin....she couldn't help but feel violated by it.....