Mrs. Dante Valentine
Like with almost everything in this place, Dante found herself perplexed at what she saw. What she experienced. Hell, even what she felt. Nothing made much sense here, and she honestly wasn’t too fond of it. She got to reply as to whether or not they would be taking another route, but the servant, Hassen, seemed not entirely opposed to the idea. She had to appreciate the little things, it seemed. So she said no more, but fell right back into her observant, almost invisible state, and as such, Dante showed no reaction when Hassen began crawling on the floor, soon throwing the bleeding boy over his shoulder, much like one would a big bag of flour or rice. It was more than a little alien, and in truth Dante was starting to worry about her own lack of feelings towards all of this.
She shook it off as they began walking, however, telling herself again and again, that she should just let things be, figure things out by herself, keep quiet, and perhaps manage to get out of there alright, or… at least alive. She was slightly offended by the fact that they had yet to be taken under any consideration by the master of the house. But then again, another part of her was glad, because she felt certain that creature in there didn’t often pay any kind attention to anyone.
Dante didn’t miss the fact that her co-guest seemed to be watching her, trying to read her. Good luck, she thought to herself, inwardly smirking. Hell, if he did figure her out, she’d probably bake him cookies or something, because as it was, that had yet to happen. Not because Dante was that terribly complicated a woman, but rather, because the façade on top of that simple woman, was very complicated. She sent a look in his direction, letting indifference, but slight amusement, sink into that one look, letting him know she had noticed, that she welcomed the challenge, and that she was not worried. So many things could be put into the looks one chose to give others. The difference between Dante and most, was that she could so easily control it.
Dante’s gaze was soon on the bleeding man, however. He seemed to be struggling to stay awake. Hell, he should be dead by now judging by the amount of blood he had lost. The fact that he still had enough energy to wince and to clutch the Hassen’s shirt, was astounding, and a little too much of a miracle, actually. Hmm. She’d put that away for later consideration. Suddenly, the servant stopped, and almost simultaneously, Dante stilled completely, gaze following the direction in which he was pointing. She wondered if he even could talk. Maybe that nasty scar on his cheek had something to do with that. But then again, maybe he simply did not like talking. That seemed awfully tedious when trying to explain something, however.
For some reason, Saber’s comment irritated her. His attitude irritated her, she supposed. He was simply too spoiled, too arrogant. There was a certain line one should never cross as a parent, and this boy’s parents had clearly crossed it with him. Spoiled rotten was the perfect expression to describe him, if you asked Dante. She had enough of his type in her life already. She inwardly sighed and followed him into the kitchen regardless, though. It seemed it was time for food. She didn’t have much of an appetite, although she felt she probably needed nourishment of some sort.
As Saber began looking through cupboards, having sighed as though he expected her to serve him, Dante raised an eyebrow. This was, most likely, the liveliest expression she had outwardly made since she woke up. She straightened her gown and gracefully seated herself on a chair by the dining table, watching him, not even bothering to hide it. “Do You know how to prepare a meal, sir?” She asked him calmly, her tone almost bored as she gave him a once over. She very much doubted he had ever learned such a thing, overtly spoiled little boy that he was. Truthfully she wasn’t sure he could even make a sandwich if he found the proper produce. He would probably end up eating raw meat, because he didn’t know how to prepare it, or something like that. Her face fell back into an inexpressive mien as she eyed him curiously.