“Ah, well my compliments to you then, Miss Lestrange,” he smiled, “You have impeccable taste.” Though, he was sure she didn’t need him to tell her that. Cornelius most definitely would have agreed that this was a far more interesting theme than your standard garden party and Seneca looked beautiful in her theme appropriate dress robes. He was wearing dark, greenish black dress robes, himself, with an interesting mask over half his face that looked like his costume was the feared Augury.

Cornelius raised his eyebrows slightly, interested to hear she wished to have a career. It shouldn’t surprise him, really, as she didn’t strike him to be like those frivolous debutantes who didn’t have much ambition in their blood, not since he’d spoken to her last, but it was interesting for her to be so blunt about it, especially when she expressed to him that she wished for a husband who would support these ambitions of hers. “I can’t imagine you’d marry at all if you couldn’t find a man who did,” Cornelius said, almost laughing. Though, he worried she may take offense to this, he quickly added, “I just mean you strike me as a woman who would never allow for anyone to get in her way, even a man. I meant it as a compliment, I promise.”