Mal exits her carriage and pauses, stretching a little before adjusting her mask, the tight white dress under the cape showing her body off to best advantage. Hearing the band, she starts up the walkway, her stride being that of someone who's used to giving orders and having them follows - but still with a hint of immaturity, of the not-yet-rounded-off edges that get smoothed by greater experience.<br/><br/>Spotting the two by the door, she pauses, studying them. Something about the female figure seems vaguely familiar to her, but she remains quiet, merely waiting for the door to be answered.