Serra Drosa
A hint of white peeked out from beneath Serra's lips like a curtain of ivory as the elven sorceress responded. "The senate will decide your proposal's fate." But then many things happened all at once, and many ideas were shared, and she was left with but a single free arm and a most decisively disadvantageous position. "One of the realities of politics is that, sometimes, you must do what is 'rude' in order to do what is correct."
The senator released a sigh, and then with some visible measure of trepidation took in their surroundings. The waiter reappeared with the wine and water, validating her concern, and then stared at them once more. "H-Here you are. Your uh, your wings will be out soon. Are you all ready to order entrees or will you need a few minutes?"
Serra waved him off. "Ask again when the wings are here. Thank you." With a stiff back, he made his way away from the table but kept shooting glances back until at the last one he caught a glimpse of the implacable stare going his way. Once he was gone, the senator turned her attention back to Eruraviel. "Let us make this quick, then."
Her hand reached in, and down, and vastly underestimated the depths to which it could sink. Her mouth fell open in surprise.