Of course, she had been volunteering when it had happened. Luck was on her side, however, and Evalina Rosier had found herself away from the calamity, but she found herself nevertheless slightly shaken by what had occurred. It was easy to feign concern for her husband; she'd been doing that for years. She'd let her features stiffen in horror whilst making sure to hide any traces of internal hope she might feel that her husband had finally expired. What followed was a sense of contempt that - had it indeed happened - it hadn't been her hand that dealt the cards.

Evalina had let herself be comforted only briefly though until her thoughts turned to her brother and son. Then the panic truly started and her eyes blazed as she demanded information about what had happened to them. Of course, none came and she allowed herself to be escorted to the tea room. With it quite empty, Eva had paced back and forth until she realized she was letting her feelings get the better of her when she saw slight scorch marks from the path she'd traced. Scoffing, she whipped out her wand and slashed it through the air to repair the floor she'd just unintentionally damaged.

In her heightened state, the scorch marks only worsened. Thankfully, no one was in there to witness the most unladylike growl that emitted from her person. It was time to calm herself down. She took her leave and decided it would be best to get some answers. She'd headed down to the front hall where the welcome witch was attending to other concerned family members and workers. It took an infuriatingly long time, but eventually, Eva found herself at the front of the line, doing her best not to show her true colors as she demanded information.

Panic was not her best virtue, it seemed.

And yet information did not come, as the witch had no idea where her brother and son (bloody hell, she almost forgot to inquire about her husband too) were. She saw herself being led back again into the bloody tea room.

This time around, Evalina found a familiar face. Her expression lifted slightly, grateful to see a familiar face, but then fell immediately when she realized what this must mean. "Is it -?" Ernest? The question died on her lips, as she already knew the answer. Ernest may only be her cousin, but he was at least a few rungs above her husband.