closed starter for: theano eluwe & sheng nuwa || @decthless place: a private tea room time: a few hours into the feast
Societal convention is quite the fun trap to deploy whenever she feels like it. It is a particularly clever move to ensure a conversation happens when one of the parties has been spooked by the other, for one cannot turn down an invitation for tea politely. Especially not after how their last encounter ended. Lord Nuwa would have to accept the invitation, if only to ensure that he does not owe Theano anything by his social faux paus. Not that she is holding it over his head for any longer than it takes him to accept the invitation. There is no political advantage of doing so with someone from Braxigar, unless they are the Garramoth heir with all of his current political power. Instead, she will play the part of the forgiving and benevolent lady from the land of the sun as to leave a warm impression upon a man that has lived his life in the cold of Braxigar. If she repeats such actions, it is possible that over time Lord Sheng will grow to associate her with warmth until it is all he craves. Then, she can use such craving to her advantage.
To reinforce that impression of warmth, she had asked her servants to prepare some foodstuffs along with the tea. Nothing overtly much, for she had filled herself while talking to Hiran, but enough so that whatever hunger Lord Sheng may feel may be dulled by it. Some cheeses, honey, fruits, and breads, as well as some dried meats, lay spread before them. There are some dainty little pastries as well, in case Lord Sheng is more partial to sweetness. The tea table is carefully set, each of the objects placed upon it calculated with thought to ensure it did not seem calculated at all. Just some food offered in the comfort of privacy, for Theano doubts that Lord Sheng is the sort to find himself at home among the crowds. Which will also likely mean that the thought of eating is likely not a priority for him that night.
She is taking a dainty sip of her tea— teacup held with her non-dominant hand to avoid straining —, when she hears the knock of the door.
“Do come in,” she calls, voice loud and warm as one of her servants opens the door for her to allow Lord Nuwa to step inside. Carefully setting her cup down, she stands and offers him a bow of greeting, before taking a seat once more. “I have taken the liberty to ask for a snack, as the grand hall is a bit too loud to concentrate on eating at this time. Please, partake in both drink and food.”
Once more, she picks up her cup with a non-dominant hand and takes another sip.
“I am very glad you accepted my invitation,” she says kindly, a bright smile spreading through her lips. “Thank you, for I was rather looking forward to resuming our last conversation.”