Wait, now? They're doing this now? Irata jumps at the sound of the bells, but as the gravity of their situation becomes apparent and the mists swell, it becomes clear that the meeting she'd been summoned to is about to begin. This whole place was just a waiting room?
And now she has to go out. Into the mist-covered streets of this 'city of joy'. She gives Ithilien a long, almost pleading look before slumping her shoulders. There isn't an alternative option. With one final nod, an acknowledgement of the shopkeeper's help, the young Inquisitor steps out onto the street.
She's a few steps into the mist before she remembers. There were other people in the shop! She could've gone with one of them! Irata wheels around, looking for her new friends... but nothing. She's already alone. Dejected, the Castilleian turns and starts to trudge into the fogy, soup-thick greys of this other realm
The table is almost a relief. Irata falls against it like a rock, a scant few inches from knocking that precious candelabrum over. She takes a second to catch her breath, and uses that moment to inspect the relic, before trying to regain her feet and some trace of her dignity. Her eyes go wide at the Ringmaster's arrival, though thankfully she doesn't make a sound. She nods to Sparrow; she's not too familiar with the lower reaches of the city, but that sounded right.
At the noblewoman's introduction though, Irata blinks. She takes a second, turning the words around in her head, before asking: to make sure she heard that right. "Lady Jackel-in Umber Hood?"
An obvious pseudonym. Maybe that was the point. Trying to make the rest of them feel like they're not worthy of her time. Damned northerners, and their political games. That said, she... probably should try and think about how she represents herself too. Taking the next go for herself, the Castilleian breaks the silence with a cough. She crosses her arms, balling her hands into fists. A simple sign of Empyreus. "Irata Zabito. Representative of Grand Inquisitor Albrecht von Hoenheim."
Zabriel, forgive her soul. The deceptive wording makes Irata squirm internally. It's... technically true. She's part of that mission, so she represents its commander, her mentor. Acolyte Irata turns to the Ringmaster, bowing to the Society's representative. "He... sends his regards."