Mrs. Dante Valentine
The smirk on her fellow captiveās face unnerved Dante. She felt more or less out of her element as she followed the limping servant, and she couldnāt tell if it was the whole situation or the fact that the darkhaired male on her right seemed to be enjoying the power he apparently held over the limping, scarred servant. If she had to be honest with herself, he creeped her out now, which automatically made her dislike him, not that she would show it as long as it wouldnāt benefit her. She knew nothing certain of her situation, and if she had to, she was going to manipulate her way of it. For that, she needed to appear neutral for now. Maybe this self-satisfied, spoiled brat could be helpful. If not, well, then she could fortunately avoid himā¦ at some pointā¦ maybe. She inwardly sighed, glancing at the limp of her guide. She didnāt like the way he forced himself forward in spite of it. Had he been her servant, she would have made him rest in bed until he was better.
As she walked, her skirts swaying softly around her feet, Dante was more or less in her own world, caught in the track of her own thoughts, so when the two other stopped, she didnāt notice until she was slightly in front of Saber, at which point she abruptly stopped, taking a step back to bring herself level with the other once more. Yes, she was a woman, but he no more than a child, and she wasnāt going to stand behind him as though she thought him above her. Not just yet, anyway. For now, she moved her eyes from the two males to examine the world around her, which immediately stilled any movement, her thoughts pausing. As the sight sunk in, the redhead forgot all about Saber and Hassen, her widening eyes instead settling on the pool of blood on the floor. Her lips fell slightly apart, but her hands remained resting on her front, elegantly placed together. So much blood. Andā¦ oh god, was that a dead body?! Her eyes immediately narrowed at that, her mouth closing as it settled into a thin line.
She wasnāt the type to panic, which in this case worried her more than a little. She should be panicking, right? She took a deep breath, steadying herself enough to bring her face into yet another inexpressive mien. Her eyes moved ever so slowly to Saber when he spoke, and she almost wanted to slap him right across the face. Who had raised this boy; this unfeeling, cold, terrible being? However, in control as always, she merely redirected her vigilant gaze to the blonde, redeyed being behind the puddle of blood, feigning indifference rather successfully. On the inside though, Danteās mind was asking a million different questions, but still there was no sense of panic, and she briefly wondered if maybe she was in shock; she definitely felt numb enough. More than enough. Sympathy was clear in her heart, however, a slight ache settling for the poor, dead man, and the male next to him, from who the blood appeared to be coming. A neck wound? How had he gotten that? What had happened here?
Dante didnāt utter a single question though, instead jumping at the sound of Hassenās clapping, which drew the attention ofā¦ ofā¦ what was he? The being was towering, and lean, yet he emitted power so entirely Dante almost fell to her knees. This was the master of this house. There was no doubt in her mind, and she was suddenly ecstatic that he appeared busy with the dead body he justā¦ slung over his shoulderā¦ by the neck. This sight almost made her drop her theatrics, but she steeled her resolve, knowing she could do nothing. She doubted anyone could, which made her wonderā¦ what where her options really? How long would she be forced to stay here? No one safe for the small girl by the wall, seemed too bothered by this display ofā¦ death. Was that a normal thing here? Was she here so that she could die the same way? No, that couldnāt be rightā¦ yet the red eyes of this pale beingā¦ well, they could simply make her believe in anything. What was he? No human had red eyes. Dante, however, had never believed in myths and tales, so this was all very unreal to her.
She cleared her throat, her voice deceptively calm and bored as she spoke once the tall being had left with hisā¦ hollow human body, āanother route to our destination appears preferable in this case, gentlemen.ā It was all she said, but her voice was clear and no-nonsense as always, yet feminine and soft. She realized this was the first words she had spoken in this house, and she was only speaking because the pool of blood was too big for her to avoid it in crossing, and she refused to step in it. Mostly because she had a feeling that her shield of numbness would crumble at that particular experience, but also because it was more than a little disgusting. Her words themselves held no actual authority, but her voice very clearly spoke of the fact that she was no lowly woman; unless she was dragged or carried, Dante wasnāt crossing through that blood. It was that simple.