Séra frowns at her, then turns it into the expected smile. "Hello. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Not yet," she smiles pleasantly, her voice soft, but a little odd. It resonates and seems to caress and surround Séra.
"All...right," Séra replies, the confusion entering her voice. "Can I direct you somewhere?"
"No, there is no place I wish to go that I cannot find." She cocks her head to one side, studying Séra.
~OK,~ Séra thought, ~this is getting a little weird.~ "Oh..." Séra nods, still confused. "Are you a...visiting dignitary here for the festivities?"
"You look nothing like him," she mummers. "But We are never wrong." Séra can hear the importance of "We" even though nothing in the woman's voice changes.
Séra frowns and nods, thinking this woman may have been put up to this, but not wanting to insult. "Forgive my asking, but was there a reason you decided to visit my kitchen?"
"To see, in person, the daughter," the dark-haired woman states as if it should have been obvious to Séra.
Séraphine runs the friends of her family through her mind. She doesn't remember this woman. "You know my parents?" she asks.
"Yes. We know all who know Us."
"Oh," she says, cleaning her hands with a towel, trying to ignore the woman's eccentric behaviour. "Of...course. Mother hasn't really seen many friends since Father passed away. I'm certain she was thrilled to see you."
"We know them as well," the woman adds.
The look of speaking to an escaped mental patient while the men in the white coats sneak up behind her reaches her face. "Perhaps I should take you to find mother. I'm sure she'd hate to have you wandering around."
She smiles magnanimously and points to what Séra was working on, "Is that for the Coronation of The Chosen?"
Séra glances at it, "Yes. Flaky pastry dough." When she looks back, the woman is gone. She returned to her work, thoroughly distracted for the rest of the morning. After her breakfast shift, she reports the encounter to a confused Sir Cedric.
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