.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ Jade waits patiently in the foyer connected to Kitana’s throne room. Aside from her mask, she is not in her usual garb but a long, silk, deep green saree with golden embroidery, a perfect match for the heavy gold accents dangling from her ears and hugging her throat. An immaculate image, a vision of grace and allure. 

When the massive double doors pull open and the occupants pour out the chamber and into the hall she waits patiently, eyeing the crowd for one face (or mask) in particular. Once he’s spotted, Jade pushes off the pillar supporting her weight and saunters up to him. 

❝ You look exhausted. ❞ A jeweled hand lifts to grip his shoulder. ❝ Must have been an invigorating audience. ❞

━━ ˟ ⊰ * ˖・ﾟ ❝ How kind of her to offer such wisdom. ❞

With narrowed eyes the dragon circles the mortal standing center in the greeting hall of the palace, perusing him like a feline would a mouse in a trap.  Mr. Black held a specific sort of presence about himself, one that would explain what caused her granddaughter to become so enamored—the allure of mystery and danger that he wore like a fragrance. There was no doubt in their mind that this man was responsible for many a weak minded maiden fainting away and swooning in a flustered frenzy. The mask obscures his face from view but his eyes, just as inviting as his exterior, were on full display. Onaga makes a point to meet said gaze as they stop directly in front of him. 

❝ And how foolish of you not to heed it. I see we have a great deal to teach you, Mr. Black. ❞ Their eyes size him up one final time before turning to cross the long corridor. ❝ Come. ❞