This was her profession and her calling, and Genevieve stood calm, submissive and prepared as she was stripped.  Even so, she reacted to the way that the Mandrake moved towards her suddenly, charging forward in a display which caused the attendants to flee and the crowd to make an audible step back.  Genevieve too felt the power that moved with him but she did not back away, standing her ground even as he barged into her, letting her feel the collision of their bodies.  It was a visual for the crowd, but it was something else for the two of them, the striking of their bodies for the first time an erotic thing boiled down to its essence.  She felt how her body rebounded from his mass and strength.  He would feel how he moved her and yet she stayed with him, their bodies united.<br/><br/>Genevieve was ready to be taken away in this moment, this perfect union.  The crowd was disappearing for her, nothing but the dance of two perfect partners.  His words took that away from her though, turning her thoughts once more to those gathered, those who watched.  Thoughts of why she was here, who her patron was and what were his intentions, they all formed and Genevieve frowned at the loss of the moment.  No one would notice, his mouth closing on her neck in what many would think a bit at her perfect rich skin.<br/><br/>"I, I know of no enemy," she whispered back, her thick lips not moving as she arched her neck, reacting to his movements.  She was not naive and she knew the machinations of society here, but what involvement could she have in them?  She had not yet earned her marque, and though she had many patrons she could think of no reason why one would despise her.<br/><br/>Genevieve's hands moved up to press at him, to press away his immovable bulk.  Her resistance was part of the play, at this point.  She knew if he was truly Mandrake he would do all that he could to make her resistance real.  He would have quite a challenge in her, one who was trained to submit.