shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

Shelley stares hard at the floor after Mesaana walks away, ignoring the proximity of other guests and the way they look at her, hopeful or fearful or condescending. How dare that women even speak to her after- but the Forsaken all have that supreme arrogance, Ishamael more than any. Her expression tightens bitterly. After this, she is never taking any wager from him ever again.

She turns to pick up her wine for lack of anything else to do, and catches a woman's eye, who curtsies, and makes her way closer.

"My lady," she greets.

Shelley stares back warily before nodding politely. How is she supposed to address this woman? Saying 'my lady' back would sound silly, but she doesn't know who this is.

"Your dress looks wonderful, if I may say so," the older woman continues, apparently unconcerned by her silence. "I am Mohra Terail. Might I know your name?"

Shelley pauses. Well... why not?

"Thank you, Lady Mohra. I am Selae Arata Pilaera," she lies smoothly, and with no small amount of satisfaction.

The woman smiles widely at this evident acceptance of her company, and moves closer.

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She almost smiles. Any other Chosen would walk away from their partner now, or send them away, but not Ishamael. Such consideration.

"The local governers in Emar Dal seems likely to cause... problems. I know we have mutual interests there."

Ishamael nodded. That was a matter that needed discussion. While this did not exonerate her intentions, it certainly added a touch of legitimacy.

"Indeed."

Turning to Shelley, he nodded calmly. He would keep an eye on her, certainly.

"You must excuse me, my lady."

Shelley almost rolls her eyes and points out that she hardly cares.

"Of course," she says instead, nodding politely to Lanfear, and stepping aside to stand near the table, out of the way of the dance floor.

Ishamael nodded calmly and took Lanfear by the hand. As the music began to play, he placed his hand on her waist. Now, he would see what Lanfear was up to.

"So what about these governors?"

She grimaces delicately, placing her hand casually on his arm. Both can dance near enough anything without even thinking about it - convenient, since dancing is the last thing on her mind. Over his shoulder, she can see the child standing alone by the table, making no attempt to speak with anyone else, before they turn so she is facing away again.

"They are considering opening their doors to the Hall of the Servants. Highly inconvenient at the very least."

Rahvin.

Whether Lanfear put him up to this or he took his own initiative, he was addressing Shelley. A quick calculation. He will not try anything with the other male Forsaken in this room. If he somehow managed to escape notice, he would watch the exits.

Do not look. It would give him what he wanted. He relished that sort of thing.

"Yes, it is. What are you suggesting that we do?"

A flicker of the eyes, hard to judge. But Lanfear doesn't need to look to know Rahvin is doing his part.

She herself keeps her eyes strictly on Ishamael.

"If we are unable to dissuade enough members of the council, see that our agents are assigned to the inspection, or possibly replace those who are. The arrangements in that place are too complex to rebuild swiftly if interfered with."

Ishamael kept his eyes firmly on Lanfear for the moment. A small smile as his black robe swirled about him as he made a turn.

"Yes, they are. Perhaps, something to make certain that the council keep their interests at home. Surely we can stir up a little chaos?"

"Hmm. Most likely we could. What do you suggest?"

Step, step, a graceful turn without breaking rhythm. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rahvin leading the child out to dance. Good. Hopefully he will keep his hands in appropriate places, though she admits the results if he does not should be fascinating.

Rahvin had not yet embraced Saidin. That was comforting, but the man was not bold enough to try anything. Keep thoughts on the task at hand, do not think about Rahvin having his hands on her...

--The council of Emar Dal. A group of small-minded, inbred, bureaucrats would have difficulty dealing with public insurrection.

"I was thinking of a few small riots, perhaps. The hearings alone would keep them busy for months."

She nods thoughtfully. That would not take too much of their time while still producing the desired effect.

"Indeed. Perhaps I will take a brief journey that way some time in the next few days. A word or two with a few of the anti-establishment groups should do, yes?"

A firm nod.

"A few carefully timed events should firmly keep that area under our influence for a long time yet."

Lanfear was excellent about dealing in chaos. It was one of the few reasons that she was useful. She caused a great deal of trouble, normally. Gently, he spun her. White skirts whirling. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but the thought only registered lightly.

"I will keep you informed, of course."

She nods to herself, satisfied on this front. On the other...

"How are you enjoying this effort of Graendal's?"

A small, almost predatory smile. Graendal's party was quite interesting. All these Chosen are on edge and no one can do anything. Now, that was a delight.

"There are small pleasures."

"Oh, I agree," Lanfear smiles, silky skirts swishing as she turns gracefully. She tilts her head with a quiet laugh.

"Asmodean's paranoia has never been greater."

A dark chuckle as Ishamael glanced across the room to where Asmodean was largely ignoring a Friend of the Dark who was expounding something passionately. How typical.

"It was a wonder you got him to come at all."

"It might be a Talent of mine," she says airily, also glancing over before rolling her eyes.

"I had no desire to enter partnerless."

A consoling glance from Ishamael. Lanfear was useful for spreading chaos, it was true, but little else. She gave him more trouble than any of the other Chosen.

"Of course not. Loneliness is a terrible thing."

Lanfear gives him a sightly sharper glance in return for that jibe.

"You would seem not to know it," sha says instead, raising her eyebrows lightly as she glances back in the direction of Rahvin and his redheaded child.

"Where did you find this one?"

A light laugh as he glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. Best not to give anything resembling an answer.

"Are you wanting to find one of your own? I did not know you had given up on claiming Lews Therin Telamon."

A clench of anger, but she had been expecting a dig of that kind, so she merely shrugs delicately, letting her hair fall softly over her shoulder.

"A little too... hmm. Female, for my tastes. Given up on the dark and violent type?"

Ishamael shrugged indifferently. How typical of her. He commented flippantly. Nothing bothered Lanfear more than not being taken seriously.

"Well, unlike your partner Asmodean, I never really cared for the deranged. Nothing is more upsetting than to find she has brought her work home with her and now there is blood everywhere."

Inwardly, Lanfear rolls her eyes. Ishamael is one to talk of derangement.

"I would imagine so. Your present pretty is a gentlehearted creature, then? What a rarity."

A slight, disdainful sniff from Ishamael. What a silly comment, especially from her.

"I am, as always, guided by your skills at judging the character of another."

He is avoiding speaking about the girl.

With a raised eyebrow for his remark, she turns once again, shaking her head.

"I wouldn't presume to dictate your preferences."