[Anora Eventide]

Anora's petite smile could be binding, lashing one's attention to her demure face. It was all she gave to Nessani during her sparking retort, an insufferable sort of visual silence.
She held her tea and saucer delicately and sipped at it whenever Nessani was touching on a particularly meaningful point. Perhaps hiding any reaction that clamored to the surface of her expression, or to subtly imply her lack of interest.

Cajoling a response from Anora when she was not inclined to reveal, was dashing at a rock for water. If water did bubble, it was wormwood to the tongue.
Only when she laughed in her ruby alto, did she exude any air but courtesy.
"Well-spoken, Vitsa. Though the chinks in your explanation are likely plugged with fibs."
Laughter faded into a deceptively sweet look, almost doting.
"Bears may be taught to dance, but they will never do it well."
Her eyes passed over Nessani.
"Fortunately, you are not a bear, Vitsa. We will conjure something passable."

Anora looked mildly pleased by the idea, but a disconcerting twist flattened her eyes. As if the same amount of persuasive force could convince her to pluck out Nessani's heart and feed it to a favorite hound. However, the woman seemed respectful of life, even if the gypsy was cavalier about the subject. This strictness was a saving grace even as it could grate on the free-spirited.

Setting her tea aside, Anora approached Nessani and inclined over the sitting Air'riela, casting her slate colored shadow on the gypsy.
"The sultan is a rather important figure. We both have to be on our finest behavior. But you misjudge me if I mind a chained bear. I invite you as a treat, it is easy to leave you in the eaves of the palace, my dear."
The woman straightened, still directly before the folded Air'riela.
"We begin with the idea of moderation in all things."
Meaningful eyes fell to the abundance of honey on Nessani's breakfast, that almost dripped on her fingers.
"For example, you are rather sparing with honey in my tea even though my preference is to sweeten it liberally." A surprising quirk in Anora's personality, similar to her love for strawberries.
"When being hosted it is polite to accept all services with gratitude instead of grasping for more. Consider the proverb of the man who enters a dining room and seizes the best seat for himself, only to have the host bid him sit lower to make room for one of higher esteem. It would have been better for the man to have taken a lower seat and be called to a better one by the host."

Anora drifted towards the tea set, adjusting the objects on the tray to fit an acceptable setting.
"Does that make any sense, Vitsa? The concept will be balanced with an awareness of personal dignity, displayed in dress and posture."
While dabbing up a speck of spilt tea, Anora asked coolly, "Tell me, Vitsa, what does you attire express? What does mine? And relate the difference. Do be honest."
A quick smile for the Air'riela's benefit, "I can accept criticism. My sister frequently calls me a prude, but then she never wears shoes."