[Abigail Mills is not a woman who has ever considered herself to be easily intimidated, and yet the long, solitary walk down that corridor had set her up to be on edge, each painting and tapestry leaving a stronger impression than the last, helping the gravity of the situation to take hold. Arriving blindfolded had been disorienting, but she had regained her bearings by now, and she manages not to startle much when the door shuts heavily behind her, aside from a sharp jerk of her shoulders.
She steps forward, inclining her head curiously. Wynn doesn't seem to notice her at all, but she has no problem being the first to speak.]
I'm sure you hear remarks about how unexpected this is all the time. [She glances back over one shoulder, towards the doors.] There's a lot of history here.
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She steps forward, inclining her head curiously. Wynn doesn't seem to notice her at all, but she has no problem being the first to speak.]
I'm sure you hear remarks about how unexpected this is all the time. [She glances back over one shoulder, towards the doors.] There's a lot of history here.