Sansa is no longer startled and frightened by being whisked away to strange places, courtesy of her long time spent as a Traveler. However- something feels different this time. It only takes a glance at the mantle to piece together exactly why, and she finds herself standing nearby it, staring at the photographs with a frown spread across her face- particularly the one with the couple upon it. She knows them.
"Ah!" a voice says, as the office chair swivels around to reveal the male half of the regal looking couple. "Sansa Stark! It is good to see you. I always thought it was a pity that you went out of ambit so soon after I Chose you. As you may have guessed, I am the Emperor, numbered fourth among the Arcana, and this is my Conversation Space."
There’s a flash of panic to her face as he turns to her- but she quickly banishes it in favor of a mask of neutrality- no matter how her heart beats frantically in her chest. She turns to him and moves quickly into a well-practiced curtsy, lowering herself as far as possible, “Your Majesty.” She says, softly, waiting for his command to rise, eyes cast demurely to the ground. “It is an honor.” She does not know how to feel in his presence, but she knows a thing or two about appeasing royalty. He doesn’t seem angry, not yet, but it is best to play things safely.
He smiles, well-pleased with her. "Thank you, Lady Sansa. You may rise and take a seat on the stool. The mug with the ram is for you. And may I say that you have much better manners than I am used to Travelers having."
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to play things safely.
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