<strong>"City-dweller,"</strong>is Sekhmet's response to the approaching swordswoman, although her tone is almost respectful, as if she means this to be an acknowledgement of basic fact instead of the borderline insult that one of her kind might intend.  That, and a firm nod by way of greeting, as befits a meeting between a seasoned student and a newly enrolled one.  At the mention of her House, she merely lets the fingers of her left hand brush the knotted sash at her hip and nods again, silently confirming the obvious.<br/><br/><strong>"One supposes that, given the statement of our noble Commander, it would only be polite to agree to such an insightful invitation."</strong>She smiles, white teeth flashing against dark skin, the expression languid and predatory.<strong>"One wonders whether the invitation is made in the fullness of understanding."</strong><br/><br/>After a long moment, head tilting to one side as if she is measuring the request, she gestures back to the small group.<br/><br/><strong>"Lead the way, if you would."</strong><br/><br/>Although, as she follows the as yet un-named guard back to the frail blossom of royalty who sent the minion forth to bid her approach, she prefers to give her eyes the liberty of gazing at the mistress rather than indulging an appreciation of the servant's firm and well-toned form...making sure that the little princess knows she is seen and recognized in the process, should she have courage enough to return the look.<br/><br/><strong>"I did not catch the name of your charge,"</strong>she adds when they are about halfway back.<strong>"Yet unless I miss my guess she has about her the look of your royal champion the Lady Rosamund...peace be upon her valiant memory."</strong><br/><br/>