Though she knew it to be incredibly rude, Nicolette could not help but stare. The stranger had performed magic right in front of her, as casually as if he did it every day of his life. And perhaps he did, she reflected as she continued to watch his hand. They were no longer in Salvar, a place where magic was largely forbidden. It was not as if she was a complete stranger to sorcery - her court was not nearly as strict as others in the nation, and she had seen Vincent Cain perform great feats. But those had been showy, dramatic affairs. He had chilled his glass with as much nonchalance as she might swirl the cubes in her glass. She did so as she finally ripped her gaze from him.

"Yes," she answered, cheeks warming with embarrassment at her inappropriate behavior. "I am traveling. It is my hope to see as much of Corone as possible before my friends have completed their business here." She gave a small toss of her golden hair, gesturing toward the table where the Tarot Hierarchy sat. "They spoke of enormous cities and bustling industry, and we have certainly seen our fair share of that. This place, however, is just as wonderful to visit. Even despite the storm." Her lips curled into a soft smile as a flash of forked lightning lit the windows. "Rochdale reminds me of my home."

Realizing she had not yet given her own name, she added, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Atzar. My name is Nicolette."

While she prided herself on her ability to read people, Nicolette found it difficult to get a reading on Atzar. He had a sense of humor, that much she could deduct from his response to the storm. And he had manners, something that many in small rural communities lacked. True, he was no Salvarian noble, as they would not stoop to mere handshakes. But she still took his firmly in her own, and shook it.