For a few painful moments, Isabella felt the pangs of fear prickle through her skin like an uncomfortable coat. Silence awaited her call to the Thistle King, and she was truly worried he was not present. All of her hard work preparing herself would have gone to waste and she would have to return another time, maybe even days from now. If he was truly gone from the territory, his Auxiliary wold be in charge. But Isabella preferred to learn from the King. He was a man and all men were weak to the whiles of a woman skilled in the art of love and bodily pleasures. Sirius had enjoyed her touches rather well the last time the two of them had met. Rather, when she came seeking a place in his kingdom of liars, he had paid for services and services she did render. Perhaps she had been deluded, and had not realized his displeasure in her work, which would leave a mark on her reputation for certain. If that was the case, she would have to find a way to improve his opinion of her abilities, because they were considerable and they had not but touched upon the surface of the pool of her capabilities.
Thankfully, he called out to her in his deep resonating voice. However, his tone was far from welcoming and excited. Now, she had no choice but to enter his lair, wrapped in little more than an easily removable skirt of felt cloth and smelling faintly of lavender. Perhaps she ought to have worn her more translucent skirt with the belt of large golden disks that tinkled lightly whenever they struck a neighbor. But look at the mildly pained expression in the man's eyes, Isabella knew it was good that she came simply adorned with the most effectual accentuating accessories. The skirt may have been on the heavier side and the hem stiff with thread, but it hugged her hips and rear, just below her tail. The man knew her figure by now and this was an obvious display of it. Anything for temptation.
Sirius scowled at her, but the woman ignored it with practiced ease. Her lips curled into a luxurious smile and her arms wrapped across her chest, just below her breasts. The motion pushed them up with her arms, direction attention to them. A light hand played with the stone hanging off her neck, letting her deft fingers wrap around the chain. "I apologize for disturbing you, my Lord," purred the colorful woman, taking a few steps into the King's domain. Isabella knew she had to watch her step here, where the wrong word or motion would mean failure. But her steps were calculated with ease to make her hips sway gently and the skirt to briefly hug the outline of a long leg.
His tone was nothing if not not imperious. He demanded the answer and it was not one she could refuse answering. Mood seemingly fowl, Sirius did not seem to be alright with her usual coy aloofness. For now. "After your announcement at the Supper, it got me thinking rather carefully," she said smoothly, as she took a few more steps to the King on his throne. But before she could move ever closer, she gracefully dropped to her knees before the man of Thistles. From this angle, the man could peer down on her, as was sure to satisfy his arrogant nature. That and he could look down the curve of her body. Isabella gave the King a smokey look from under her brows, smiling ever coyly. "All these new Family folk have their duties, fighters, fishers." She said the last word with a faint hint of amusement.
"But I fear I do not fit any of your duties. I am thus unfit for them. My skills are not common and do not fit." Isabella glanced to the floor, tactfully, but kept the light smile on her lips. The hand twirling the chain around her neck moved to lay across her collarbones, over her heart. A sign of weakness as well as desire. A gambit she knew how to play. "You are our magnanimous King, and I know you'll know what to do with me." Her yellow-blue eyes were slowly raised up to look at Sirius, and she added, "And my situation."
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