Walking into the room, Shay began to really feel the small void left behind her twenty-two and a half gold. Sturdy, clean furniture that was perfectly serviceable if dated. A street-side view from the balcony, that looked weathered with age and sea-side rain. If the room had been, say, even ten gold pieces cheaper Shay might not have complained. But she hated being ripped off. A glance down at the ring on her left hand, whose gold band was engraved with finely drawn tools, Shay knew exactly what she'd be doing that evening.<br/><br/>"It's not...bad," Shay said, groping for a word that wasn't 'shitty' and not ruin the ladylike image she was keen on maintaining. "Can't say I'm impressed, but this'll do for 'home'." She sighed, moving over to the right side of the bed and claiming the dresser for her own by setting her backpack on top of it. Shay then went to test the bed by plopping herself down. "So tell me Yewbough. You must have a bit of a name for yourself if the Duke's asked you to play at his party. Don't be modest now."<br/><br/>Small talk. But Shay was interested in hearing more about the bard. And whether or not it would help her in possibly casing the estates before the night of the party.