The Courtesan saw what he was trying to do and wanted to laugh at the endeavor. She approached a noblewoman she had serviced before. They talked briefly before they linked arms and began walking away from the party, a smirk on her face. Both individuals turned a corner out of sight.<br/><br/>Meanwhile as they did this Keil got up and walked to the refreshments table taking the strongest drink they had. Her patience was running thin and the stress felt like it was clawing into her brain. She needed this drink to stay calm and sane. She spotted Driscoll and decided she might as well talk with the slave. Walking towards him a bit more relaxed thanks to the drink.<br/><br/>She had noticed long ago that the best conversation could come from a servant or slave that had been coaxed to speak freely. A noble was a trained liar, it was difficult to find one you could truly call a friend too. They would tell you anything you wanted to here or manipulate you to gain for their clan. While It could be seen as a noble deed Keil easily lost patience with it. Even when she was young she found that she could have faith in her 'friends'. She witnessed friendships torn apart for the sake of politics and petty disputes.<br/><br/>Yet she also witnessed commoners relationships, even through hardship they valued each other and helped each other. She envied them for this. More then once in her youth and even now she wished she had been born a commoner. Wished she could teach nobility these values. But, alas, as she grew older she learned you could only find such pleasantries on the battlefield, where your lives hung in the balance and where the brave and loyal was separated from the cowards and treacherous leeches, and in the trenches of poverty and where lives depended on the decisions of others. For this reason she was glad she was Queen.<br/><br/>But, regardless, she had learned she could find some solitude in speaking with servants and her Maids in Waiting along with her commoner born guards for conversation and honesty. A relief for her, like taking off a scruffy fabric at the end of the day. And what better way to know the state of the darker side of town then by asking a slave living in it?