A pair of dark onyx eyes stared up at the man who would be king, those onyx eyes holding within them a fire, the flame of her rightful birth into her profession. There weren't many who stood next to her, and by the looks of things, not a one who would stand with her. She was every bit of an outsider as their supposed new King was, her dark skin not the norm for this area; she'd come from the East. Her raven locks were perhaps the only thing on her frame that would prove that she was indeed alive and no statue gazing up quietly at the one who'd so powerfully stated his Lordship over the masses now collecting faster into the hall where she stood below. Her gaze however, showed nothing of fear, nor did it show respect or anger. Her gaze showed their supposed new King nothing but an emotionless shadow of death, one that truly cared not for whom she worked under at this point. Yes, she had been loyal to the guild, and yes, she had been loyal to the council, but that did not mean she held any love for either of them, nor would she fight to defend some dead corpses that had long since overstayed their rule and had quite obviously gotten too lazy and soft to defend themselves against an attack. Yes, perhaps there was something in those deep onyx eyes after all, perhaps a hint of mirth, mirth at the irony of what had just transpired.
She watched as she saw so many of the ones who'd been clinging to and stuffing their noses up the asses of the council for so many years, trying to get a foot in the door to climb up the ladder that would eventually take them into a position of power, steam under their collars at what had just transpired; she knew they'd be dead before the hour was over and for that thought, she may have even smiled inwardly, though her exterior remained as steel as always, showing nothing of her thoughts as her eyes continued to seemingly be fixed on the man high above her.
Something thudded against the toe of her boot and she took that moment to look down. It was one of the six rings, she kicked it aside, the tiny item once again rolling away to seek out a new hand to perhaps grace, she didn't want it, nor did she care that it was perhaps worth more than money, as it was now a piece of history, no matter what transpired here this day.
Anasha then brought her eyes back upwards to gaze further at the man upstairs, their new, would-be King. She knew him, she'd been the one to lead him to this place, and she'd been the one who allowed the tiger to enter the den of the sleeping wolves. For this, she was certain to find hard times of her own ahead. Though, she figured that she'd be more than able to withstand what would come her way. She began to wonder now, why it was that this man she'd met not all too long ago would want such power over a bunch of cutthroats and evil nasty beings. She figured he'd had his reasons, perhaps glory, and a name. Once again, she thought on the issue of a name, she herself never taking much stalk in throwing hers about, nor did she ever really care to know the names of others, unless she had planned on getting to know them personally. History, there was something again, she was at a loss as to why any one would want to be remembered in books that would either personify them as much more than they really were, or down play them so drastically that no one would care who they were. These were the common thoughts of those who sought power and now, she wondered if those were the reasons for this small man to have done what he did. Or maybe he was simply bored she mused to herself as she continued to watch her surroundings for a move against him that seemed to not come, as it should, as it inevitably would.