<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/7nywiRN.jpg?1)</div><br/>Mara nods at the Lord's offer.  "This sounds very generous-- you are a kind man.  We will look, and-- if commission is on paper, is better," she seems apologetic about this, "I cannot explain such things, and the others would want to know..." and with that out of the way, she rapidly continues, "...but our own feasthall? So fantastic-- it would be like, a dream-- to have our own shows?  We will go and see it, as soon as we can!"  She flashes him a vibrant and winning smile, extends her hand to grip his, giving it a firm squeeze.  "We will contact you as soon as we have seen it.  Thank you, so much, for this offer.  It is very generous."<br/><br/>She makes a conscious effort not to let her eyes wander too far over his shoulder as she sees Alizeh drift by, dancing in the arms of a gorgeous elven woman, and continues to smile and shake Whitburn's hand.  Making a mental note to ask him, later, about the prior owner, she releases her grip and looks at her hand pointedly, emitting a small laugh.  "Sorry... my hand is not soft."  She shrugs, grins.  "Not everything is this way, though.  It was a pleasure, Lord of Whitburn."  At that, she nods, backs a half-step away, and turns to excuse herself.<br/><br/>At the nearest window, she will make as if to check her reflection in the glass, then check the exterior to see if the 'prima donna' and her security have departed yet... or if, perhaps, they are still lingering about.