Rasha had recieved a summons and her first reaction was fear, then anger. A summons! Now? Why? It was plain enough but still she worried. What might he know? But once the initial fear washed away, the actress pulled herself together, dressed and went forth to meet with Etienne. She could charm anyone she set out too, this man would be no different and her secrets would remain hidden. [Rasha]

A man dressed in the garb of a butler stands by the closed door of the familiar boudoir that held Etienne's chambers, one gloved hand holding the silver-painted handle into the rooms. He seems to be waiting for the actress and that his face holds an odd anticipation. Upon realizing that she is near, he flexes his elbow, automatically swinging the door ajar and sufficiently enough to allow Rasha to enter into the flower-scented interior. [Etienne]

Within, it is as richly decorated as anyone would thought it'd be. A plush settee of gold and cream coverings is placed about a glass table; and the far end becomes home to a small baby grand piano, crafted of white wood. [Etienne]

The petite bench belonging to the piano itself is occupied by the man who had summoned her, and his fingers barely hover and pause above polished keys at her entrance as he turns to hint a glance at her. [Etienne]

Rasha arrives at the door, looking at the man, her gaze passing over him from head to toe. The soft rustle of her gown is heard as she passes without pause or thank you and moves through the door. Her dress is a vibrant royal blue which accentuates the lovely red of her hair. She moves into the main room, glancing around it, not much held her attention but the piano, once she sees it. Still, her eyes search the room for Etienne. She was curious to meet him at last. [Rasha]

Immediately as if rehearsed, the blonde man's expression changes, the lips turning upwards into a smile and he stands from the piano bench, hands moving to turn down the lid of the instrument. "Mademoiselle Rasha." [Etienne]

The greeting falls easily from those lips, pleasantly still upturned and the man takes three very smooth strides from the bench and towards the settee; "You have come at such speed, Mademoiselle. It is strange yet refreshing." [Etienne]

The blonde man seems to praise her as he places himself by the settee and his hand gestures lightly towards the empty seat, his expression turning momentary meaningful. "Before you'd sit yourself, Mademoiselle, should you have heard erstwhile anything different from what I shall tell of you here, it would do myself, and you grand benefit if you be truthful of where your desire lies." [Etienne]

Rasha drops into a curtsey, remembering as always, her place, even if she recented having to have one. "M'lord Etienne." she says, staying in the curtsey for several moments before she rises, it gave her time to decide if her haste was perhaps a mistake.

She looks up in time to see his motion of hand but stays where she is, hands at her sides. She bows her head. "But of course." she replies, moving closer and finally taking a seat, smoothing the folds of her gown carefully. She gives her grey-eyed attention to him, studying his face, curious as to what he was thinking. [Rasha]

"C'est bien." The blonde man murmurs in approval and without deigning to bring wine or glasses for now; he settles himself upon the settee too, lapping one leg over the other in fluid motion and then the curve of his hands rests upon the frontmost knee, his fingers steepling into a rigid contemplative notion. "I will be straightforth, Mademoiselle. The playwright von Karlach has just left us. What are your plans then?" [Etienne]

Her own hands, and most of her arms, are covered in white gloves that end just above the elbow. Her hands rest placidly on her lap, a lovely contrast against the vivid blue damask. Not much ever ruffles the lady, in front of others, his words nearly do but other than a tightening of her fingers on her lap, there was little else to show her distress. Finally, she simply waves a hand and says, "So is the way of things. The theatre will likely carry on without him, yes?" she asks, ever the actress. [Rasha]

The smile, glassy as ever, continues to linger on de Santorus's face; the blonde man lapsing into a sort of inward contemplation at Rasha's reaction. "The Theatre carries on; as we would be. Even if he is not here." [Etienne]

"Unless you feel, like some of them." Etienne leans forward from where he has sat besides the actress, his movement making insistant depressions in the softness of the furniture's cushions. "Unless, Mademoiselle, you feel that you need him to be him to be here. That his presence…" Blonde eyebrows lower in a soft, placid and traplike gesture towards Rasha now. "Is requisite for your success. Then I will request his return." [Etienne]

Rasha delays in answering, perhaps just a second too long. "No. Christian was talented but talent comes and it goes, yes?" she says, plastering on her best smile, not moving back as he moves forward. She drops her gaze to her hands however, no longer meeting his. She was unhappy to learn that Christian would leave and to have to hear it this way, she was a bit angry, but that she hides very well. [Rasha]

"You're very practical, Mademoiselle. A trait I admire, despite, what you have heard perhaps of the way I am thus so frivolous about many things." The blonde man reclines against the settee's back, letting his head tilt to aside. [Etienne]

"I would had expected you to be furious or even utmostly upset at von Karlach's departure. It was sudden but I expected him to leave." Etienne's shoulders arch in one magnificently accentuated shrug, dismissively even. [Etienne]

"But you are not angry." He remarks, drawing another lengthy look upon the young woman; the words he say rather cleverly interlaced with a tinge of esteemed veneration. "Tell me then, Mademoiselle, what path do you seek here in this domain of mine?" [Etienne]

Rasha shrugs a slender shoulder. "Writers are very unpredictable, if it was Christians time to depart, then what can one do?" She knew what she wanted to do, but that wouldn’t help her situation. "Path? The path I have always tread so well. Acting is my life, I would do nothing else." she worries perhaps however, he has other plans and she would not submit to others, willingly. [Rasha]

"Acting is your life, and you would do nothing else?" The blonde man takes her statement and repeats it to himself, as well as for her own hearing benefit; and Etienne grows amused once more. A slender finger, ringed with sapphires, raise up to run its thoughtful length down the side of his pale cheek. "Mademoiselle Rasha, in time, we will get to know each other very well. And perhaps — intimately too. For once, I think I have chosen the right time to wake up." [Etienne]

That one statement made her more nervous than the time just after the death of her sire. She forces a smile and bows her head to him in a slow nod. "As you like, M'lord Etienne." Her mind is racing with possibilities, both of playing this for what it is worth and those of running. The playing was winning out, she was much better at that. "Was there something else you wished of me?" she decides to ask, wondering at his repeating of her proclamation of wanting nothing more than to act. [Rasha]

"Nothing more than to put a name to the face." Etienne rises up from the settee, with one step taken back, folds his hands behind his back. "Do not worry, this meeting is short and it ends here. If you do feel discomfited right now, in time, I hope such circumstances would change." [Etienne]

Like clockwork, the butler who had opened the door for Rasha earlier has stationed himself near to the boudoir's exit once more, his hand upon the silvered handle. "Mademoiselle, I have thoughts to ruminate on now that we have spoken of your plans. If you would deign me the pleasure, a dinner with myself two nights from now, and we'll speak again." [Etienne]

She rises from the seat and smoothes her gown, nodding to Etienne. "Yes, of course." she says, giving a quick curtsey before gliding out the doors. She had a bit of thinking to do as well. She was treading in dangerous waters and has to think what to do next. She leaves his rooms returning promptly to her own, muttering to herself and pacing the carpet the next hour. [Rasha]

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