don't make me [A MONSTER] baby {R}

[attr="class","niatags"]Tag to Decima Avaris

She supposed if she had to pick a country to spend time visiting besides Orlais that held her interest, it would be Antiva. Mostly because every get-together had at least half a chance of someone getting assassinated. And she was no exception to the rule – but that's what made it fun, wasn't it? She would certainly like to see them try.

'I'm certain my guards wouldn't appreciate it, though.' she thought idly, lazily swirling the liquid in the goblet that settled delicately between her fingers. She tilted her head as subtly as she could to keep a view on the crowd, which was rather quiet, for the time being, seeing as their host had just officially welcomed them not long before, and as it was so soon in the party even those determined to make a disturbance had yet to have consumed enough alcohol to have the gall to do so.

Well, if any excitement came, it very likely wouldn't be pointed at her, at least, excitement non-withstanding – she'd only been in the city five days at best, to felicitate a deal for her father. She'd been farther north in Antiva before, attempting to smooth some ruffled feathers over a few border skirmishes between the Imperium and them, but when her father heard word that she was near enough to Antiva City to seal some business deals in person.

After all, what better way to convince someone to stay in line than to send your daughter, who was also a mage of Tevinter? The man didn't need to know Sythnia was primarily a healer...after all she was just there for pleasantries. How powerful she was or wasn't didn't matter in the equation...except how it did, and the simple threat the man knowing she was a mage from Tevinter was bound to remind him not to try and double-cross her father.

She'd been happy to accept his invitation to an affair he was hosting several evenings from the one she arrived on - after all, it would be terribly rude not to. Besides, what better way to know his contacts to be able to swiftly burn his bridges should things go awry. Considering the amount of trade this particular entrepreneur did – and the amount of people scattered across the ornate ballroom floor that claimed to be a business associate - that was a great deal of people, so she did rather hope he kept his end of the bargain.

The ambassador kept out of the main crowd for the time being, speaking only to the curious few who actually purposely came to the alcove she'd settled herself in, but was satisfied with people-watching for now, making mental notes here and there who seemed to be the important figures, as well as those who acted most likely to cause a scene. Even when she was just there to remain in the good graces of a business partner of her father's, she couldn't help taking up her mantle of wanting to make nice with all the important names here. Old habits die hard, and all that.