If Narcissa didn't know Bellatrix so very very well, she might have been convinced by her performance. Every word from her lips was as reasonable as could be. Even her annoyance with her circumstance was just what one would expect. But even at seventeen, when Bellatrix said something was 'a blessing' or that someone was 'lovely' she was bent on manipulation somehow. It wasn't anything she could even address, though. It was just an instinct. Something about her tone of voice. Not quite flippant enough. No trace of sarcasm or facetiousness. The very genuine quality of it just didn't quite ring true.
There was something she was concealing. Narcissa was mildly irritated, as she'd already nearly quarrelled with Draco over her insistence that she had a responsibility to stand by her sister. But until she knew what it was or why Bella was keeping it front her, she had to give her the benefit of the doubt. For all she knew, every room was being monitored and Bellatrix was convinced she was due to be executed at any moment. Whatever was going on, Narcissa needed more information first.
She glanced over her shoulder, wondering where Andromeda was. Though they were still not speaking where she came from, Narcissa would have liked to see her. Perhaps being in this odd place would cause them to reconcile. "I'm sure you'll meet Draco. It's a very small place. Did anyone mention you being discharged? You appear to be in excellent health."