Even after his satiation, Gilbert’s eyes danced at the way the woman’s pulse jumped and her blood hammered in her veins. Frightening others had always been one of his favorite hobbies for exactly this reason, though he was much better at self-control now than when he’d started playing his little games. She smelled faintly of something he couldn't place (was that... cat?), but the fear that laced the air was all the more appetizing. It was a good look on her; it complimented her striking eyes and pretty face.
The wand that was brandished in his direction did nothing to dissuade Gilbert. He watched as she took a step away from him and he merely raised his hands innocently as if to imply he was no threat. And he wasn’t. Yet. More interesting to him however was the fact that she’d understood his native German. Was she native herself or merely talented? There were a number of magical folk from across the German Empire here this evening. Lord and Lady Westenra had deep ties, some of which were affiliated with Gilbert himself, or Azazel, and some merely by association with the prestige. But then again, English was becoming an increasingly common language to default even in his beloved Prussia. Deciding to test her, Gilbert switched over entirely.
“Verzeihen Sie mir, Fräulein,” he purred, lightly. Though she looked a bit old to be a Miss, he’d give her the polite benefit of the doubt. He didn’t know her name as it was anyway. “Is there something you’ve lost here, by chance?” He continued, still in German. “I can’t imagine our hosts would take kindly to wandering guests without good reason.” He paused, waiting to see if his words would filter in or if a blank look would accompany that empowered stare of hers. There was an energy to this woman, even as she lowered her wand, that Gilbert couldn’t quite place. It fascinated him. Enough, perhaps, that he would keep his mask on and let her live. If she made it worth his while.
The wand that was brandished in his direction did nothing to dissuade Gilbert. He watched as she took a step away from him and he merely raised his hands innocently as if to imply he was no threat. And he wasn’t. Yet. More interesting to him however was the fact that she’d understood his native German. Was she native herself or merely talented? There were a number of magical folk from across the German Empire here this evening. Lord and Lady Westenra had deep ties, some of which were affiliated with Gilbert himself, or Azazel, and some merely by association with the prestige. But then again, English was becoming an increasingly common language to default even in his beloved Prussia. Deciding to test her, Gilbert switched over entirely.
“Verzeihen Sie mir, Fräulein,” he purred, lightly. Though she looked a bit old to be a Miss, he’d give her the polite benefit of the doubt. He didn’t know her name as it was anyway. “Is there something you’ve lost here, by chance?” He continued, still in German. “I can’t imagine our hosts would take kindly to wandering guests without good reason.” He paused, waiting to see if his words would filter in or if a blank look would accompany that empowered stare of hers. There was an energy to this woman, even as she lowered her wand, that Gilbert couldn’t quite place. It fascinated him. Enough, perhaps, that he would keep his mask on and let her live. If she made it worth his while.