Evette was currently staying on as a rather permanent guest for the rich and extravagant.  Currently, she was spending the majority of time in a nice little flat on the borders of Versailles, but in reality she was house hopping every other month or so.  She stayed on at certain places long enough to be comfortable, but never to long so as to raise questions.  Just another nameless French noble who traveled with the seasons.  Welcome, so long as a proper introduction was given, and so long as she didn't pick a family that was influential enough to turn away anyone they chose.  She chose those that were wealthy, but overall insignificant.  Those social climbers always made the best company.  And with Evette's timeless beauty; with her pink lips, blond curls, and perfectly poised body; she was welcome in all but every home.<br/><br/>Currently she was staying with...oh, what were their names? Evette always had a trouble when it came to insignificant details like that.  She knew they had sons though; three of them.  They were delicious.<br/><br/>When a letter arrived for her, from Alphonse of all people, Evette was attentive to the words written within.  He wanted her to go to Transylvania?  She'd never been there before.  Ah well, how could she turn down a request given to her by her most beloved sire? He'd treated her well in her youth; and treated her well when they crossed each others paths.  She would oblige him with her attendance.<br/><br/>She'd need a carriage for her travels, along with a good sum of spending money.  She already had enough luggage to take with her; so she did not need to concern herself with that...<br/><br/>Her current hosts were more than happy to offer up a carriage for her use; along with a driver of course.  Of course, in the hidden places in their hearts, they were also more than happy to be rid of the enchanting young female.<br/><br/>But she'd need a companion, someone to both entertain her and feed her more carnal of hungers......<br/><br/>As the servants began to pack away her belongings, Evette motions to the third son.  Jaques.  He was a sweet boy, but he wasn't the heir; and he wasn't the spare.<br/><br/>He could be surrendered, and she did love the taste of blue blood.<br/><br/>"Will you come with me then, on an adventure you've only ever read about?" She asks, as she pets the young man's head, her slender fingers running through his longish brown hair.<br/><br/>In a moment he agreed; and they were on their way.