Aundra's calculated manner allows some control of an otherwise overwhelming situation. She has decided to stand her ground even as the anxious anticipation of being carted away flutters just below the surface. She should have known to not stroll through an area wrought with such a multitude of various scents. Her emerald eyes remain upon her visitor though no hint of emotion is conveyed that the other may define. Everything about Aundra is measured and precise as her methodology for surviving centers around the aspect of bending the game for success. Wooing is not something that would happen easily to her keen mind - her heart itself has more exclusive access. The small smirk that dances across Ysabel's lips forces a sliver of doubt to prick into Aundra's mind. Perhaps I am in over my head", she thinks briefly, but allows the unsettling thought to drift away with the same quickness with which it presented. "Yet you are here in his stead." Her statement is rather blunt, but her opinion has never been one to be coated for the sake of others. She is not impressed by the way this queen is painting her consort - he seems to be collecting a cornucopia of women. She will not go quietly into a land wrought with strangers finagling for coveted positions alluding to superiority. Every ounce of strength she possesses is the only thing that keeps Aundra's eyes from rolling at yet another reference to how sought after this Solomon seems to be. The second aspect of Ysabel's monologue is the portion that gives her pause. Confusion flickers over her features for a mere second as she puzzles as to why this queen's power is questioned. Was she not the chosen of this king she advertises so readily? While she is not currently duty bound, Aundra can grudgingly find respect for one seeking to fulfill their tasks. At the request of her name, her eyes narrow slightly, providing a brief look into the suspicions she harbors beneath her calm exterior. While it is foolish to give away even a minuscule iota of trust to a stranger, what harm is there in a name? "They call me Aundra." Her own tail swishes lazily in the summer heat as she gives a gentle shake of her head to ruffle away the assaulting flies. "Take me to your home." The last sentence is uttered before she contemplates the full weight of this permission. Blooming regret begins blossoming with her chest, yet it is too late to snatch the words back from the humid air. |