Sibylla had expected a reply;
Lysander von Ascania
was nothing if not
predictable in his inability to resist a good quip. She'd even wagered he wouldn't last half an hour without sending something utterly absurd.
And she wasn't wrong.
Her datapad gave the faintest buzz against her palm. Just once, mercifully, before she managed to silence it beneath the hem of her sleeve. The last thing she needed was to have
that noise interrupting delicate talks with the Mandalorian assembly. A misplaced chime could end in a diplomatic incident. Or worse, an awkward silence.
Her expression didn't shift, not overtly -- House Abrantes had trained her
far too well for that -- but the smallest furrow gathered at her brow as her hazel eyes skimmed the message.
Lysander: Yo, that's like... deep stuff, Sib. Kaadus really be out here dropping free game for everyone..."
She stopped reading aloud in her head, lest it cause some sort of intellectual collapse.
'Yo'?'Vibing'?'Rocking the orange aesthetic'?
Shiraya preserve her.
She blinked. Once. Twice. And then, as if her brain needed time to fully process the tail end of the message --
Lysander: I bet you smell like citrus too!
A flush rose unbidden to her cheeks, swiftly chased by a thin press of her lips. A citrus aesthetic? Sponsored by a Kaadu-themed enlightenment movement? She scrolled down to the coup de grace: a Lothcat emojicon, cartoonish and smug, with a glowing 'L' on its forehead.
Infuriating. Utterly ridiculous. Possibly the
most Lysander message to ever exist. Was he high on those Ukatian pastries? Caught sunstroke in the desert? Inhale too much sand?
An aide leaned in quietly.
"Lady Sibylla, we'll be arriving shortly."
"Thank you," she murmured, slipping her datapad aside...but not before tapping out a reply with enviable swiftness. A string of quips, barbed gently around his vocabulary:
Dockworker slang? Are you auditioning for a holodrama now?
…and ending,
against her better judgment, with a parting shot referencing her supposed citrus scent.
Well, you'd have to get close enough to confirm, wouldn't you?
She hit send with perhaps a touch more haste than was strictly necessary.
Focus, Sibylla.
Senator Sarn was speaking. Senator Vonn glanced her way. And Dominic Praxon, the other Junior Representative, had arrived, giving her that ever-so-curious look as if she hadn't noticed the interaction between
him, Grandmaster Briana Sal-Soran, and Senator Vonn earlier.
She straightened, chin high, composure restored.
Well, as she swallowed hard, the shuttles ramp unfolding to reveal the series of Mandalorian escorts in full beskar armor,
almost.
Right. Mand'alor. Walking into the Jexu's Den. Unsure of what to expect. Here's to hoping this Court of Iron doesn't end with a few extra holes in their skins.