The slender half-elf looks up to meet the eyes of the approaching man, then immediately turns her gaze away in deference. 'Mercenary..?' she wondered, sensing the air of professional confidence and the value of his arsenal; the man speaking bears no sign of not belonging, and from the other servants' avoidance of his path it's evident that they know him by reputation and rank.<br/><br/>Her painted face, a motley of grays and bluish-whites, eases into a disarming and faint smile, a reaction as unconscious as the quickening of a pulse, the dilating of an eye.  "Milord," she says softly, her voice even as the drone of a narrow drainspout after a storm, "your kind offer is appreciated, but my preparation is nearly complete... I fear your assistance might inadvertently cause your exquisite armor to bear a stain."  She is in character, but her words reflect something of herself, she knows... still the mask takes hold, and she can feel it tighten the muscles of her face, and the smile broadens.  Her eyes even twinkle, just a bit.  "I hope, sir, that you do not miss my performance this evening."<br/><br/>Behind the smile, the inner Eshi edges at control.<i>Learn.</i>Her eyes are focused on the fire as this thought flickers through her mind, and she glances up innocuously.  "You are Lord Rune's safe-warden, are you not?"