Emilia Locke
Character
Wearing: [X]
Objective II
Emilia felt the shift as Dominique guided them toward the quieter edge of the ballroom, where the music softened, and the conversation naturally followed. The view beyond the glass lingered at her periphery, but her attention remained on the Chancellor, matching that subtle, conspiratorial tone without overplaying it.
"A dangerous combination," Emilia replied lightly, a hint of amusement in her voice, "a Chancellor who understands exactly what something is worth." There was no hesitation in meeting Dominique where she stood. Emilia did not feign modesty, nor did she lean too far into the game of it. She simply acknowledged it for what it was.
Her fingers adjusted slightly in Dominique's hand as they turned again, the movement smooth and unbroken. "I'm not difficult for the sake of it," she added, a faint glint of humor returning. "I just prefer arrangements that make sense long-term. Infrastructure, logistics, controlled expansion, something that strengthens what's already here rather than competing with it."
There was no need to spell it out further. Someone like Dominique would understand exactly what she meant.
At the question of what she desired, Emilia took a brief moment, not because she lacked an answer, but because she chose to give a measured one.
"Alignment," she said simply. "The kind where neither side has to keep looking over their shoulder once the deal is signed." The word sat comfortably between them, not heavy, but deliberate. As for the rest, her expression softened slightly, the edge of negotiation easing back into something more natural.
"And as far as making my stay pleasant," she added, a quiet note of warmth returning, "this has been a good start."
At the mention of a drink, she inclined her head just slightly.
"I would love a drink," Emilia said. "A good drink and good company sounds lovely, so long as I am not too much of a distraction." The music carried them forward again, the conversation settling into that easy balance between business and something just a touch more personal, neither rushing nor pressing, simply unfolding at its own pace.