(Mentions: @Congee & @Sierra)




The woman in front of her seemed to observe Rowan, or so Rowan felt. Her soft gaze was on her almost constantly. But that couldn't be right. Someone with such a status couldn't be seriously interested in anything Rowan had to offer - beside the drinks on her tray perhaps. Yet, Rowan felt almost sure that the beautiful lady was being honest with her interest in the words she spoke. And the features of her face, as it seemed. A slight blush crept onto the servant's cheeks as she couldn't help but smile slightly. Her gaze dropped to the floor, away from the woman, for her to contain herself and prevent her lips from forming a foolish grin.

The offer to set down her tray however came surprisingly. Had she shown that her limb had gotten tired? If the Madam would find out, her other cheek would be marked with a hand print as well! Rowan opened her mouth to decline the offer, as she should. But before she even could say anything, she knew that her lips would betray her and take the noble woman up on her offer to give her arm some relief.

Interrupting her thoughts and stopping her from saying anything was a woman marching in on them bluntly. Rowan was taken aback for a moment, she hadn't seen such behavior publicly in a noble person. The woman had taken a glass off the tray the servant was carrying and simply engaged herself into their conversation about dance. As she spoke Rowan couldn't help but think that something about her blunt way was charming. Immediately, unable to stop them, her thoughts trailed to the question if the enchanting lady right in front of her would find the other woman's bluntness charming as well. And something within her didn't quiet like it. She gave herself a mental slap. How impudent of her to think like that!

Rowan's eyes hadn't withdrawn from the woman who dared to interrupt their conversation and she only now noticed that she might have worn a little of a glare, or rather an outraged look, on her face. Quickly catching herself, she wiped any negative feeling off of her face, or so she dearly hoped. Since she was certain that the noble lady was directing her question exclusively towards the only other person with a title in this conversation, Rowan didn't think she was permitted to give an answer.

Duchess Philomena Ceswick of Stonia. So that is the name and title of the woman who wrapped Rowan around her finger so quickly. A beautiful name, she thought baldly, fitting for such a charming woman.

As the Duchess of Stonia started to engage in a conversation with the other woman, Rowan knew she should have bowed out and withdrawn herself from the situation. She should have left the two nobles to discuss their business and return to her job at hand. But she didn't move. Her eyes had wandered back to Philomena, whose facial expression had changed now that she was talking to someone that had a title just like her. The servant was fascinated by the woman and she knew it would cause her physical pain once the day was over and the Madam would hear about it from the little crows of servants that would bring any relevant information to Madam's attention.