"You would be best advised to keep your reason to yourself, Monsieur Isk'karra. When some men set themselves to a course, they will have it their way until they are spent. We will bandage him after he passes out, oui?" Mezolene had kept the brisk pace despite the layers of lace that were weighing her down. With the grace of a tightrope walker, she strode upon her delicate boots in the practiced gait of a lady of quality, heel to toe, hips squared, and abdomen corsetted slightly too tight.<br/><br/>She was a difficult read empathically speaking. Her interest in the castle burned far too bright for any sane person, the sort of focus one only found in the obsessive. In truth she was more eager than even Faskin's, the man who had devoted a large portion of his life to the question. It was most readily compared to a child's sharply narrow focus, seemingly ignoring all consequence and hindrance that came with adulthood and responsibility. The very concept of culpability was alien to her.<br/><br/>If they had asked her, she would have tossed the girl in the marsh ten minutes earlier. It was a problem Mezolene had frequently tried to address, her greatest character flaw. She simply could not wait for dessert. Well acquainted with the myriad rules of etiquette, she knew the means and methods of consuming eight hundred and thirty two different dishes from around the world. There was never a moment which her poise could be considered anything but perfect, when she was so inclined. Admittedly there were times when her baser sensabilities and sardonic sense of humor made her say and do things that might be considered unseemly, but this was ever with the knowledge in the back of her head that she was consciously being uncivil.<br/><br/>Such an unseemly tendency, and the most common one for her, was her sweet tooth. Listening to drivel from her hosts who often drank and fed themselves too heavily to be of much use later in the evening, enduring course after course of exotic food which was often indistinguishable from more pedestrian fare, and always maintaining a smile and the veneer of interest was part of the job. It was necessary for both a scarlet companion and a negotiator of any merit.<br/><br/>However... she would always wonder what the dessert portion would be. If she were inclined to read, she would be the sort who would skip to the end of a mystery novel, unable to wait the duration of the story for the pay off. She enjoyed many aspects of life in the same way as an indelicate lover, rushing to the pay off without concern for others. Mezolene had little interest in treasure and even less interest in fame.<br/><br/>She just wanted to see, smell, and touch the mirage.<br/><br/>While she had the ability to show a veneer of empathy, she had as much fellow feeling as a man eating plant. She had just met them and had yet to establish the value of her companions to any degree of certainty. They seemed passionate, skilled, and by and large honorable. She really hoped that their morality did not become any more of a dilemma. One question puzzled her, and she was scarcely one to tolerate such things. Still clutching her umbrella and case, she stepped up her pace to catch up to the head of the party,  "Monsieur Faskin! How is it that only now does this castle make itself known? What did you do?"