bethen avilla ; the circle mage (bethe) wrote in thedas,
The voice from below -- one she'd never heard before -- startled Beth out of her pensive observation, but not enough that she was in any danger of falling. She craned her neck to look down at the stranger, and was delighted to see that he was not alone. There was a beautiful dog beside him, wagging her tail. Though there were plenty of feral dogs in the region where she had grown up, she had never seen a Mabari in the flesh before, only in paintings and illustrations. But seeing any living, breathing animal within these walls had almost never happened, except for the accidental spell gone wrong that transformed mages into assorted creatures, scaly and furry alike. It was difficult not to grin, though she realized that it would make her look even crazier than she already did for lurking on top of a bookshelf, and attempted a less manic smile.
"This place is impressive from all angles, in my opinion," she replied as quietly as possible, hoping the young man below could hear her in spite of the distance. She also hoped that the guards would continue to ignore her presence. It was difficult to hold a conversation like this, though. And she couldn't very well ask him to come up here, either -- she remembered his introduction as the son of the Ternya of Gwaren, and it would do no good if he broke his neck on account of attempting to do something stupid like scale a bookshelf. Not now, when he was already meant for a greater fate, one that she hoped they might be able to share soon.
She leaned over again, "Oh. No. You probably shouldn't. Um, hold on a moment, would you please?" Beth slid over toward the ladder and began to step down, allowing herself to slide the rest of the way once the floor was only a couple of feet beneath her. The sound of her shoes touching the ground was softened by the carpet underfoot; not a single person stirred through the rest of the room, to her relief. It wasn't until they were eye-level -- or at least close to it, as he was much taller than she could tell from when she'd seen him at dinner and from above -- that it really sank in that she was standing in front of a nobleman. He was handsome, well-groomed and well-dressed, almost like he had stepped out of one of those books of fables she had read as a child. She felt suddenly very inadequate to be in his presence, even though a moment ago she had almost pegged them as equals.
Beth patted a hand over her robes to brush off the dust and straighten them out, then attempted her best curtsy, "I...um...I apologize for my manners, my lord." Was that what she was supposed to call him? She wasn't really sure what proper etiquette was with nobility, especially one of such high rank. Was she allowed to be looking at him directly, or was it weirder that she was trying not to, head tilted down and just awkwardly glancing at him?