While the others were thankfully focused on something else, Mellie bent down and slid the ginger cookie into her leather satchel and slid it under her skirts. Was it stealing? Lord Upton offered her this fare, and it would be just a small bit of food, perhaps if she just didn't eat as much it wouldn't be all that wrong. As she did all that she tried hard to focus on the other mans words, he was so much more cultured and accomplished than she was. Surely she would never be chosen over him.

The look he had cast at her, what did it mean? Perhaps he recognized that she would probably be as illiterate as the children her father taught. Was it scorn for not bettering herself? Or perhaps pity, which seemed even worse. He seemed pleased with himself, with his lot in life, and he should be, he had a job, a means to support himself that wasn't up the whims of people on the street. She offered him a smile when he finished, but didn't know what to offer as a reply. Never before had she had such cultured men to converse with, only the gypsies she grew up with or the troupe she had traveled with, who were much more bawdy and uncultured.

To fill the time and excuse herself from speaking, she nibbled on more of the treats, discreetly trying to eat enough to hold her over while not seeming like a glutton. "About why I brouht you here..." When Lord Upton began to speak she jumped, surprised by the loud tone of his voice. Her plate clattered to the floor and the pastries scattered at her feet. Heat crept up her cheek and she hurried to her knees to clean up her mess. "Leave it, the maids will worry about it later." Lord Upton had leaned forward and put his hand on her shoulder. She could only nod and took her place back on the plush chair, wishing she was anywhere but here, making a fool of herself in this fancy drawing room.

"As I was saying, I brought you here because I'm getting older, too old to be traveling the country anyways, and I've need of information. The flyer you both posses explained a bit, but the simple truth is that I am a collector. I enjoy my collection, not just for the beauty of it, but for the stories behind it, and I pride myself on knowing these stories." He stood and made his way to a nearby table, picking up a small wooden chest, seemingly ordinary in construction. He brought it to the area they sat in and set it on the table, pushing aside a few of the offerings that had been set out.

The lid of the chest creaked when it opened, and on a deep red, velvet lining sat a lone rose made entirely of what looked like silver. It was intricate and imperfect and a complete mystery. "I've recently acquired this, I have reason to believe it is, or shall I say was, a rose that was turned to silver," He dropped his tone and leaned in, as if revealing a secret to them, "by faeries." He seemed quite serious about it, and Rose looked on in awe at it. She had heard many stories about the faeries, spent many years of her girlhood searching for signs of them, trying to make friends with them. Yet none had come forward.

"I need you both to work together and to find out the truth." Lord Upton's words surprised her, he wanted them to do it? What did she knew about any of this? Sure she knew about the faeries, the mystical things in the world, she had heard all the stories and legends growing up, but this was beyond anything else she had done before...