[ He follows a strategic step behind, forced social niceties thrown from one noble to the next, though he settles on simply nodding in return to most of them (no smiles, though). They were all pretending, in the end. And they wouldn't remember the two of them.

When they approach the door,he halts, searches for any guard that may see them here, though he suspects there would be ones past the door. Quietly, he's pushing at the door; it gives after a moment with a small click and he's throwing a glance in. ] What, rather than who, Billie. It's the host's will. It's for some noble's feud.

The coin is good. [ This wouldn't be the first choice of a job he'd pick; this was simply being stuck in the middle of some family spat that the nobles had a talent of plunging into a bigger chaos than necessarily required. But the pay was good, and this sort of thing was hardly tiring (annoying, perhaps), and maybe that was the only thing that needed to be said. ] Two guards. One of them will have the key.