Back pressed against the wall by the fiery young sheba, Roman's gaunt features softened into a small, incredulous smile.  "The corpse?" he asked, confused, jerking his head back toward the anteroom they'd fled from.  The grin melted away as realization sunk in, when he recalled seeing the "<span style="font-style: italic">draugr</span>" in the mirror.  He cast his gaze around the room quickly, keen brown eyes searching for the man who'd attempted to listen in on them.  The immense, vaulted-ceiling ballroom was absolutely packed with men and women in all manner of appearance and apparel, making it hard to be certain, but although Roman saw plenty of white-jacketed<span style="font-style: italic">draugr</span>making rounds of the dance floor, he didn't think their hulking eavesdropper was anywhere to be seen.  Still, any one of the Palace's dead servants could be another plant, as could any of the guests.  It was obvious that they couldn't talk safely here any more, but Roman was not yet done with the temptress.  He'd have to find somewhere else to continue.<br/><br/>"Looks like I've been made," Roman admitted.  Casting his mind back to their brief conversation earlier, he doubted the eavesdropper had heard him ask Johnnie anything significant - but like as not she was now linked to him in their minds, and it was unlikely that they'd simply leave her be even if Roman abandoned her.  He didn't know who they were, or why they were interested in Gregory Markham too, but so far his pursuers had proven both relentless and resourceful.  Still, because the worst thing he could possibly would be to don the druid's mantle - here in the supernatural bastion of the Palace that would be like struggling against quicksand - he had no choice but to flee.<br/><br/>Removing Johnnie's grip on his lapel with a gentle pull, Roman straightened his jacket.  "Sorry, kid, but I think we're going to have to take this conversation to go.  Where do you bring your men, when you do the deed?"  Unable to exit through the front door - too obvious, too easy to follow - Roman had no choice but to find somewhere secluded where he could temporarily lose any eyes on him before beating a retreat via window.  "Take me there," he added, looping his arm through hers and taking her by the hand.<br/><br/>The symmetrical imperial staircases flanking the center of the ballroom led to a promenade walkway that was dotted with various parties taking a leave from the dance floor but still looking on at the entertainment.  Snaking their way through the couples, Roman checked his impulse to keep looking over his shoulder for signs of a pursuer.  He had to remind himself that he mustn't look like he was fleeing - no, even though his identity was known, he had to maintain the illusion that he was interested only in the horizontal tango with Johnnie here.<br/><br/>The room was small and built to purpose - a luxurious bed took up enough space that he had to edge around the foot of it to reach the other side of the room.  Aside from a chair and side table, and a dresser hidden behind a half-collapsed room divider, there was little else to see.  "Lock that door, huh?" he asked as he moved to the room's small window.  With a grunt and a good whack - of which the room had likely heard plenty - he forced the window up and open before poking his head out and peering down.<br/><br/>"Perfect," he muttered as he saw that, inexplicably, they were situated in a room that was four stories up.  Despite the Palace being an ancient bastion for the otherworld, its current iteration as a swanky nightclub was only a few decades old at most - and apparently as the building exterior and even location changed throughout the ages it was more hassle that it was worth to keep changing the interior to match it.  Roman didn't doubt that the next room down would be situated somewhere else entirely were he to open<span style="font-style: italic">that</span>window.  Unfortunately they didn't have the option of trying this theory out, with the door now being monitored.<br/><br/>With a sigh he slowly removed his dinner jacket and threw it onto the corner of the bed, revealing his black waistcoat and immaculate white dress shirt beneath.  Leaning his back against the wall, Roman fished another Woodbine out of his pocket cigarette case, and this time the matching lighter worked first try.  After a long drag which he then exhaled out of the corner of his mouth toward the open window, he glanced up at the temptress.  Although being locked alone with her in a room such as this allowed for many fruitful avenues of distraction to bubble up in his imagination, the druid was nothing if not single-minded, and he was able to dismiss such prurient thoughts while he pondered more pressing concerns.<br/><br/>"You said you didn't recognize Markham in the photograph.  Perhaps that's true, but it means nothing toward whether or not you fed off him that night - from what I gather you get more than a little sozzled most nights," here he pantomimed downing a drink.  "Let me in those memories of yours to verify for myself - I promise I'll be gentle," he added with a sardonic grin.