Izolda's expression flickered with vague disappointment when Master sliced the thorn off of the rose. It was soon entirely replaced by the delighted arching of her brows as he mentioned that she was going to be gifted with something. Izolda adored gifts more than an average human did. Her life rarely included surprises since she had lived what...three or four lifetimes now? So, when Master brought a surprise, the curious elation was completely palpable as she almost glowed with the myriad of possibilities. And Master never disappointed.<br/><br/>She straightened and bounced a little on her heels, the milky mounds of her compressed bosom beyond the neckline of her gown jiggling as she listened with growing anticipation as the evening's plans were laid out. At last she clasped her hands together and smiled boldly, those pearly white fangs displayed. At last, Master turned, his handsome countenance full of charm and sensual promise as he headed into the dining hall. Oh, Izolda almost never went in there and as her gaze lingered appreciatively on Master's backside she reached up and tugged the neckline of her gown down a little bit, wriggling her chest so that her breasts shook minutely and became further exposed. Just enough to catch the eye of an older man, perhaps?<br/><br/>Taking a few moments to groom herself, Izolda entered the dining hall after Master and the human family had exchanged nervous pleasantries. She moved with ethereal swiftness to the side of the table where the aging man had begun to sit beside his distracted wife. Knowing the sudden nature of her appearance would likely startle the old man, Izolda's lips curled ever-so-slightly up at the corners, remaining closed so as not to cause him additional alarm -- at least right now -- as she offered him a sphinx-like smile. Her gaze darted at him coyly from the corners of her eyes, thick black lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.<br/><br/>"Please excuse my...how you say...tardiness? Mmm, I wished to make myself pleasant," she murmured to the old man softly.<br/><br/>"My name is Izolda, I am the Count's...hmm...sister," her soft voice, accentuated heavily with her Russian vernacular. Incidentally, her little act was amusing her immensely and her eyes twinkled with bemusement as she recounted the fact that she was Master's sibling. Swiftly, her gaze swept the other occupants of the hall; Master, the middle-aged woman who stood transfixed as she spoke to Master, and the fiery red head who so clearly wanted to be anywhere but here. She was...<em>cute</em>to say the least and Izolda had no trouble imaging those flaming locks splayed across a pillow or entangled in her own fists as they contrasted with her pale thighs. She smirked at her own smut filled thoughts and soon returned her attention to her snack.