Enjiope pursed her lips and took a deep breath. She looked up to the beams of wood that made for a ceiling and put her hands on her hips while cracking her neck. The slender form of her neck extended and curved as she made herself comfortable with a high-pitched sigh. Little hairs lingered along her neckline, freed from her braid of hair at some point in all the action. But as she made her movements, trying to distract Valdaris with her femininity, he noticed a movement from her left side as she inexpertly palmed something small into her left hand from her hip. [Passive Perception notices her trying to do something.]<br/><br/>Her green eyes looked up at him from under her long dark lashes. “’Cold-blooded murder’ is a very generous assessment of what happened in that square.” She looked at him with a sudden intensity, an anger welling up inside of her as she spoke. “Consul Aethermayne has been one of the loudest voices in Castelbruck for demanding the imprisonment<em>and</em>murder of every member of my religious order.” She wore no symbols of the Church of Eldis, and had shown only signs of being with the Order of the White Rose while committing her murder, but Valdaris knew he had heard her mention it a few times already. She pushed a slender finger down on the table, the tip of her finger bending back in a white and red blush as she applied pressure. “There’s nothing cold-blooded about his death. It was a matter of moral necessity.”<br/><br/>She took a deep breath. “Maybe they will not see it the same way, but as someone who has served—who has held rank, even—surely I can count on you to understand the importance of leadership, and of making sure orders are just. If the consul were to live, he would have had those who follow him do horrible things.”<br/><br/>Pensively, Enjiope looked down at the drink in front of her, putting the delicate fingers of her left hand on the handle of her mug before her hand lingered for a moment over the drink. She made a face, trying to think of what else to say to appeal to Valdaris’s sense of honour. He seemed honourable, at least, but she also didn’t want to test his limits or pander to him. And besides, she didn’t have time to get into an argument, or to answer questions—she needed to make her escape.<br/><br/>Carefully she retracted her left hand from the mug’s handle, placing it lightly against her chin. “I hope you don’t take offence, but”—she pointed down at her mug of ale—“would you mind sipping mine first as well? To prove it’s not tainted?” She batted her eyes and made a small smile.