With his question, a sudden chill ran down her spine, and she knew, suddenly, that to give this man her true name would be an irreparable mistake. Despite this sudden certainty, the only name she could bring to the tip of her tongue was Vampir. She knew the answer she needed to give that was neither a lie nor dangerous, but it would not form on her lips.
As she watched Navormal, his lips began to curl upwards as his previously bland smile turned mocking and his eyes began to sparkle. She forced her gaze away, and finally managed to push from her lips the answer she wished to give.
"Snow. My name is Snow."
The room seemed still. Looking up once more, every man in the room was looking through her with sharp bright eyes and solemn expressions. The mirth that had been present mere moments before seemed suddenly much more desirable than this sudden tomblike stillness.
She turned, somewhat confused, to Navormal who was still standing beside her, and with the proximity to him she saw the myriad of emotions his solemn expression was hiding. His sharp eyes seemed to be assessing her, confusion slowly being pushed out by caution. Snow realized, with a sort of dull dread, that her host was afraid of her.
Looking closely at the others in the room, she realized that they, too, were afraid, and not nearly as successful at hiding it. This was bad. Fear is the enemy of societal relations. It twisted people away from reason, calm, toleration, and listening, and toward, anger, violence, hate, and distrust. In short, it was everything she didn't need right now.
Unfortunately, no truth she could tell would calm their fears. She was dangerous to them. She wished she knew what she had done to inspire such fear. Just the little knowledge would help immensely.
"How much power the mere mention of my name must have as it so quickly brings solemnity to an otherwise light and joyful gathering. One would think you wished me to leave." Perhaps such a simple statement, when paired with such a reprimand, would bring forth an explanation, or even better, a hint at what was expected of her.
"We would never wish a guest to leave. Please come and eat with us." Navormal was smiling again, but the twinkle in his eyes had not re-appeared. Instead, they radiated calmness. As he waved Snow into the kitchen, she could feel the subtle relaxing of the atmosphere as all present met the gaze of her host.
For she could see, now, that it was Navormal who was hosting her, and that the others present had little influence within the house.