Comtesse d'Arnee's Spring Tea Party

Lia bit the side of her mouth as she ferried a delicate plate on entrees out amidst the crowd, delicately dipping the plate for any who seemed peckish. It would have been unnerving, swimming in the sea of masks were she not equally clad, hair neatly pinned back in a bun, her single blade still neatly placed on the side. She had to reserve the urge to politely throw the tray in the face of each and every noble.

She had, of course, not received an invitation.

This was possible due to the fact that she had read the notice on the Chantry board and sent an incensed letter to the comtesse, in which she may have inferred taking political action and hiring some Crows to take care of the dispute. She had received a dispatch at her quarters in the tavern, regretfully informing her that sadly, nothing could be done, as they had indeed heard of the Valente family and also the rather dire state they were in. The comtesse had said, in no inferred terms, that any family in such standings would never be able to afford The Crows, and as she had nothing to fear, she would not be able to stretch the guest list to include the riff raff.

Lia wasn't certain which stung more; the insult, or the truth to it.

So instead she had turned up to the interview, demure and dainty with perfect teeth and very regular bathing habits, and been hired on the spot.

She also had a vial of her most favoured poison stuffed up her sleeve, and a knife in each boot. The comtesse would learn well whose family to insult, and that it wasn't only the Crows in Antiva who had assassins.

Regardless for the minute she would walk, and smile, and speak not a word as she delighted the nobles with treats on a platter, awaiting the host to slip by. When her tray was nearly empty however, she spotted someone whom made her heart leap to her throat. She had never seen anyone like them.

She had never seen a Qunari before.

Entranced, and bitter thoughts of murder pushed completely from her mind, she steps forward despite herself, edging her way closer to the fountain. Unable to think of anything else to say, she politely taps at the Qunari woman's elbow (as that is as high as she dares to reach) and offers the final delicacy upon her gilded tray.

"Tart, my lady?" She queries, batting brown eyes in astonishment despite herself.

There's no way I'm getting paid enough to listen to these nobles drone on and on about- whatever it is they seem to talk about. Jok is pretty sure if he doesn't loosen his smile up at least by a bit he may be stuck with it as a permanent feature and honestly nobody wants that to happen; of course, if his last bounty hadn't gone so poorly he wouldn't even have to be here, but coin is coin and if he rubs the right shoulders he may get some extra work. He hadn't been this bored in quite some time, not even when a noble hired him to stand outside their door for a day. After another round of unrelenting blathering he politely excuses himself, hoping to find somewhere to get a short respite, even if he has to hide under one of the tables Maker help him.

Anthy found herself coughing rather loudly in response. She tried not to be as obvious as she felt leering at the blonde woman when she leaned in. She wasn't entirely sure if finding something to eat in the kitchen was a euphemism or not. She certainly didn't want to get too far ahead of herself and pin the poor girl against the wall. Not unless she wanted that. Because if she did, Anthy would pin her to any surface vertical, horizontal, or diagonal. She regained her composure, standing so she was no longer hunched over trying to listen but instead with a prim posture she had to work very hard to learn. She fiddled with a button on her sleeve before looking back at the waitress.

Ah, shit, she was really cute. All batting her eyes and looking at her like that. The qunari was trying really, really hard to be good. She put her arm out for the waitress to take if she saw fit. "I'm always in the mood for non-despairing food, lead the way."

Anthy was surprised at the grace and adeptness that blonde woman maneuvered the crowd. The qunari usually had a much harder time going from one crowded space to another, what with her bulk and the horns. She was almost entirely unaccustomed to the concept of freely moving from point a to point b. This woman was used to gliding past hoopskirts, clearly. Perhaps that said something of her as a server, though Anthy had never met any serving girl who would just freely leave her job. Well, not any that bothered to ask her name before removing their clothes. This waitress had a bit more elegance than that. 

A perhaps a usurper, trying to wedge her way into court? She wouldn't be the first Anthy met, in fact many would call the qunari one. She never passed judgement on those who would wish to better their position in life, in fact she often aided them if she was fond enough. So she figured whether the asking of her name was simply an innocent request or a ploy to find out where her status lay it wouldn't matter to her whether she gave her name and title.

"Chrysanthemum Bllumehaus, but lovely women such as yourself tend to call me Anthy." She smiled fondly. "It's far quicker and cuter."

Lia titters a small giggle, the appropriate amount of coy but delighted as she curls herself closer, hands resting in the crooks of Anthy's arms, and craning her neck up to get a better view of her. She's nearly flush against the qunari woman, close enough she can smell her perfume and see the elegant details on the shoulders of her coat. She is reminded once mroe she must find the name of the tailor, for the next tea party she's invited to. After all, after what would happen at the party today she doubted she would ever be refused invite to a party again.

But the thought was off track, so instead she focussed herself on the elegant arch of her current beau's jaw, and the way her eyelashes fluttered just so. She wanted to reach up and grasp one horn and idly considered what kind of hand holds they might make; she would certainly have to test that later.

"I assure you I am both quick and cute," She purrs, deciding on a pseudonym to use - it simply wouldn't do to have her actual name in anyway affiliated with the business that went down at the tea party. A terrible smear.

"My name is Ciri," She quips, simply shortening one of her middle names into something she hoped would be feasible.

Lia wriggles a little as Anthy's hands are placed upon her, inching just the slightest bit closer. As the qunari leans in, she swallows a sharp little intake of breath leaning in for the ki-... Anthy's mouth bypasses her own, and instead finds itself at her ear. While delightfully ticklish, the news she imparts was not quite as delightful. She stiffens immediately and without thinking tucks her face against Anthy's chin, so as to better disguise herself. Her grip turns from sweet and gentle to sharp as she shifts her face side ways hoping that her hulking companion might shield her from direct scrutiny.

"Do you know who they are? Or where they are?" She grits out, and forces herself to calm. She couldn't exactly throw a poison dart or knife with her hands shaking, now could she?