She had never met Peters mother, curiosity made her want to, but her imagined dislike of the woman made her not want to. She was also curious as to how the older woman would view her. A threat perhaps? She supposed it might come down to the sort of public relationship Peter had with her.

’This was my decision’ she shrugged her shoulders, ’If you don’t want to be part of this Peter you don’t need to be.’ she explained flatly, ’I made this decision, if you want to walk away all I’d ask is that you don’t tell anyone.’ It was an honest offer, and one she would keep making. Adrestia played with a strand of her long blonde hair that had escaped from her hairstyle.

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In all honesty, Peter had no clue how his mother would view his ward. The woman was hard to read when it came to pretty much every person aside from himself. It took a few times of seeing her with another person before he really got a good feel about how she viewed them. Always a delight to play the guessing game though.

Sighing, Peter shook his head. "We're in this together, whether you like it or not." He stated bluntly. Even if it left him burned, at least they would burn together.

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’but I do like it’ she said cheekily, bobbing her head to one side like a cat observing a curious bird. Those analogies applied to them both rather well, Peter had all the aspects of a bird, even down to speed and character of his movements, while Addie was smooth and cat like in all of her actions. She had never been a seductress but she knew how to play one very well. A chameleon in her manners as well as her natural abilities to change her face. Although playing pretend had come just as easily as her meta abilities. She wasn’t even sure who she was beneath all of the pretense, and she seldom stopped to examine that metaphysical question, lest she end up as mad as King Lear, wandering the streets of London asking strangers [i] Who is it that can tell me who I am?[‘/i].

’If we are in this together, perhaps you should seduce the Princling?’ she teased, she wasn’t serious, having no inclination of Peters tastes in women, never mind men, but as she was the one who would actually have to capture the interest of the young man in question It was a teasing inroad. ’We just have to hope that he doesn’t have a penchant for brunettes’ she chimed. That was her biggest worry at the moment, that her current appearance, her as she presented to the world would not be enough to capture the interest of a first born son a wealthy family, that notions of his station or his dues would make him immune to her physical charms. While she could appear as a brunette it would be simpler to keep her default face as much as possible – much less chance for errors or inconsistencies.

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If Peter was a bird, he was a peacock. Over the top feathers and all. Though it was debatable if one would call a peacock speedy. Though this was not truly the point of their discussion. Fooling others wasn't his biggest talent. Not like her. But he could certainly be persuasive. Which was good, for what needed to be done. Pull a string here and there. See what unravels. "Good."

A raise of the eyebrow, he was sure that she was teasing. No one knew about his more... unique interests. This wasn't the era of open-minds. Alas, he was born in the wrong century. "I could always make a go of it, but I doubt he would receive such interests well." He said in a playful tone. While Peter wasn't actively watching them, he did keep his eye on the family in question every now and then. At parties, passing along in the streets. Nothing noticeable. "He seems to dance with more blondes at parties. I wouldn't worry."

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She laughed merrily at the preposterousness of the suggestion that it would be worth his while trying to seduce the Princeling. ’That will make things simpler’ she noted her tone turning grim. Although if pressed she would admit that she had been prepared to amormentia the man if he did prove immune. Ramdas, had exceptional skill with potions and some of the concoctions native to his homeland seemed much more intense and hardcore than anything she had found in English potions books -potions whose affects were permanent.

Not wanting to get into the detail of how she planned to circumvent the potential barriers to their plan if he decided not to be interested in her. Here – like before, it was better if he didn’t know – at least not at the moment. She decided that teasing was the best way to avoid the subject. ’And what of you? Who do you dance with?’ she pressed, ’Am I to lose my alley to a fiancé?’

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While the laugh was welcome, Peter would never admit that it was not all too accurate to laugh. Given his more controversial preferences that he kept to himself. These were not the days that one could be open about themselves without consequences, and he did like his privacy.

Placing potions on the man in question was not to be used as a resort until absolutely necessary. While Peter was willing to go along with the plan, he didn't want his ward jumping into something that she didn't have to. So it was wise of her not to mention it, due to the fact that his objection would be clear.

Thinking before he spoke, he knew this in and of itself would likely be a tricky subject. He didn't want to upset his ward with thoughts of abandonment, however unwarranted they may be. "No loss, but I may have to set a marriage soon. If only to keep from my mother looking too close into us." And society, for that matter. They were close enough in age for it to be a tad odd.

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Addie didnt want to admit how much the thought of him arranging a quickie marriage annoyed her, and she mostly managed to stop the look of disquiet that passed over her usually implacable features. As dispassionate as she like to pretend Addie actually felt things very deeply, what she had she clung onto - it was why her vitriol at the family was so deep. She had her hatred, and she had Peter - the thought that he might make a show of being married to someone else irked her, that he might be lost to her was not something she cared to thin about. 'Perhaps we should arrange for some beautiful fiancé for you, sickly and seldom in society.' she said, her tone joking, if a little forced and she allowed her face to change to a pale faced dark haired girl, pretty but weak looking, as though too strong a wind or inclement city air might kill her. 'that would stop people wondering.' her eyes flicked off to the side and she tried to sound like the brazenly confident young woman she was playing at being.

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Her mask of calm broke a bit, he could tell. Anyone else would likely not realize it, but he knew her. This was not something he could really help. Without a marriage, having a marriageable ward would be questionable.

"As talented as you are, being two places at once is not your specialty. While a normal person may not question your absence every few times my 'wife' would make an appearance, one of them might." Which was a reasonable point. These people were tricky. Enough to frame a man for a terrible crime. The hair out of place was bound to be noticable.

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'I never thought you would be one to underestimate me' she hummed, but clearly annoyed, and not really about being underestimated. 'I will have the Princling well in hand, and they are not as smart as they think they are,' she said her voice flat and perhaps all the more dangerous for it, 'We ferreted out their crimes. She[/i] she said intonating the awful woman her father had loved. 'Isn't as smart as she rather thinks she is.'

In the face of the rather subtle rejection, and rather smarting at the prospect of losing her confidant to marriage, she gathered herself and stood. 'I'll make arrangements to stay a few nights per week' she said, her tone flatly, 'And you may make your own arrangements.' she met his eye cooly, her mask back in place.

  

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No, at this moment, she cared not for her pride. If she underestimated them - in favor of pride no less - she was going to get herself killed for sure. He met her eyes and stood immediately. "Hermione. I don't underestimate you, I prefer to overestimate them. Caution is what keeps those like us alive. Forget that, and you will be silenced quicker than one can apparate." He hissed. These days, use of that name was rare. He wasn't stupid. Only to use it when it counted. He needed her to hear this. It wasn't a matter of her damn pride.

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She stopped in her tracks, her control slipping and the false face she had begun to put on so she could slip from the house faltered and her own blonde locks and fine features reasserted themselves. 'Hermione Villefort is dead' she answered her tone strained and wavering, the threat of angry or empassioned tears flickering in her voice. 'We may start this but I suppose how we end it...well we will see. ' she noted. Adrestia wanted to know she could rely on Peter, but she hadn't been able to rely on anyone since she was a child, since her father, so why would Peter be any different - even Mister Dantes had up and died on her. No, she was truly alone, at least as far as she could see. Peter might want to help, he might mean to help, but in the end, this was her fight.

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Adrestia was blind to the fact that she wasn't alone. She never had been. All she was doing was attempting to build a wall and isolate herself. Well, Peter would be damned if he was going to let that happen. He wanted her to succeed, but he was damn sure that he was not going to let her destroy herself in the process. "I hope you're wrong, about Hermione. She was a beautiful soul and the world would be lost without her. I hope she comes back." Peter sighed in the way that only someone you love could make you sigh, though in exhaustion as it were. "Get some rest, we'll need it." And that was it, his dismissal to this. One that did not invite further discussion.

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'As you wish sir.' she said in a simpering tone, her lips twisting into a sort of smile, as she turned her face back into that of the frumpy maid, and with a bobbing curtsey headed towards the door. 'See you around Mister Salvage' she said with a light smile.

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