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2014-02-07 06:26 pm (UTC)
Daimon just chuckled. "I'd like to say there's some tragic story behind her overindulgence, but sadly it's a simple case of her being stupid, stubborn and loving a tipple. I predict it will end up getting her into all the trouble she deserves." He stepped up beside her and smiled at her mischievously, with the manner of one who knows many dirty secrets. "As for her poor son, well...he'll probably be less insufferable once he's out of her shadow."
He watched as her blushing offspring and a servant did their best to wrestle the woman inside before she gave another "oration". She was purple-faced and fighting, completely unaware of the conveniently-arrived journalist at the bottom of the stairs. Then he turned back to the pretty brunette, who was hiding her discomfort well given the circumstances, in his opinion.
"Daimon Winter." He bowed a little, not entirely informally and with a certain grace. "Dealer in antiquities and rare items. You're sure that you're quite all right after that?"
Upstairs, another belch sounded, quickly muffled. He snorted. "Excesses of anything are damaging to health and reputation. Thought I doubt you would be anything but funny and charming with enough liquor in you, it's certainly not something to pursue with any enthusiasm. Especially absinthe and the distilled stuff."
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