The low, dull, unceasing noise of the crowd bothered Asmodean. It was a kind of grating, organic sound that dulled his senses. There was no music in it. The cool glance of disdain around the room. There were so many people, so many variables. It was difficult
to plan anything. He had to watch Lanfear carefully. To see her smiling there as they
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Comments 15
She is in her element here.
But she is not just a lovely young woman, much as she looks one, and her dark, laughing eyes are carefully noting the attendees. No Ishamael so far, but Rahvin, Mesaana, Graendal of course - she notes with aloof disdain the dress the woman is wearing, if it can even be called that - and Semirhage. Lanfear turns away to her companion with a small, teasing smile, rather than look at the other Chosen. It will not affect him, but others present do not know that.
"It seems we have arrived a little late. And yet no booby traps so far."
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"Ishamael is not here yet."
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If Lanfear needs to be in a room with Ishamael, she likes to know exactly where he is at all times. His love for theatrics makes that possible. Her eyes flicker around the room, almost seperate from a small sweet smile that graces her face as an eminent politician she has had dealings with walks past.
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"I know why we are here. The question is why does Graendal have all of us here?"
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