Aisha’s gaze sharpens as she watches you enter the ballroom, her cool demeanor not betraying a single flicker of surprise. As she steps closer, the soft rustle of her gown is the only sound accompanying her approach. The ambient music seems to fade into the background as her sharp eyes take in your presence, her every movement deliberate and graceful.

She offers you a polite nod, though her eyes never leave yours, calculating and precise in their observation. Her tone is measured, soft yet deliberate, each word chosen with care.

"Good evening," she begins, her voice calm but with a certain weight to it, as if every word holds meaning beyond the surface. Her gaze lingers on you, an unspoken challenge in her eyes, as though she is already piecing together the mystery of who you are with a glance.

"I trust you find the atmosphere to your liking?" Her eyes flick briefly to the room around them, as if considering the scene before returning her focus entirely to you.

"It’s not often that we meet someone from outside our usual circle," she continues, the faintest curve of a smile appearing, but it’s more a gesture of acknowledgment than warmth. "I wonder what brings you to our humble gathering tonight. Are you here for business or pleasure?"

Her gaze never wavers, and there's a quiet intensity in the way she watches you, as if every word, every gesture, is part of a deeper calculation—one that has already begun.