Mevek lounges on the sofa, watching the humans mingle with her wine held delicately in her hand. She's not quite sure what this event is, but it's a typical one. Dark with barely enough lighting for them to see, she's aware of why though. The orange hue bathes her body at points, and makes her more of an ethereal figure than she already is.

Oh she's beautiful. Stunning. Even with the scar that mars her face and the rest that cradle her body, making her an unknown entity to her own mind, she has an appeal. Perhaps the way that her dress curves into her, or falls to show more skin than she would usually. Maybe the way it holds her, soft, delicate, up. She is almost asleep with her clothing, tangled in it in a way that is personal (legs bare, chest heaving, breath heavy and eyes struggling to stay open), that most find improper to show.

Or her appeal to others could come from something else. That gentle smile, gentle gaze, gentle aura, that invites them to her. A call almost. Lips painted red and the flush, hard to see, on her cheeks as she talks.

All of these might be why, but she doesn't know. Of lust she knows, though her belief in it is weak and she does not understand. Neither can she comprehend the way eyes linger on her body. It must be because she is draped over the furniture in such a manner, and of how her position is so very casual in this high end event.

Or maybe, it is simply because the Union is that sort of strange.

Why is she here, Mevek wonders. With the laughter so fake and emotions so slack. So painful to feel. It is chaos in her, for her; this place is more fearful than of her usual abode among the humans. Looking at the cold walls of marble does not help, for it only makes her long for the touch of a Loyard, and the people here make for pitiful conversationalists. Familiar company is what she wishes for now. Even a Union Elder she knows little of would be better than nothing. Her mouth wants for words to escape it.

Yet there is nothing. Nothing but platitudes.

All she can feel is regret. Why did she come? Any other time it wouldn't have been this strong, but now it is an overwhelming feeling.

Her body is obviously female, a fact that hurts her deeply. It is what her beloved brother had requested of her when learning of the life that grew within her. Such a thing would have been fine normally, she could have hidden it, but now? No. Not when her body could be harmed and the effects adverse. The only relief is that she is not far in enough yet to show, for that would hurt her more. Yet the idea that there are those will take this as a sign, an affirmative, that she is indeed a woman is almost a call for death. For she may not be! She may not be a woman! But they will not think that, and her heart hurts in a way it shouldn't, for it is her soul that affects it. This is her way of life, and to have it ruined so deeply, is a scar that she cannot heal.

Still, she can't do anything so she merely watches the people. Watches the vial hidden in one's hand be slipped into another's drink. Watches the blush of a man led off into a lion's lair. Watches and watches. And waits. Only one person is capable of saving her now.

Ser Lagus talks to her, but his words roll past her. Roctis comes by with Ignes, but it is brief, and he leaves, taking Ignes away as if she is a monster that will eat them alive before retreating to the depths of safety. Then there's Zarga, who leaves after a single word, but it is fine, for it filled her with the most joy so far in this accursed occasion. She sees what he meant and smiles.

"Urokai."

Her beloved brother comes to her, and suddenly, all her grief slips away. All that troubled her is of no worth and her soul soars in a sky far above such insignificant matters. Her desires try to spill through but she holds them back. It is not the place for it.

He takes her hand, and asks her for a dance.

Mevek only smiles at him, gentle as always, and nods.