His remark strikes her as dry humor, something she appreciates more than most, though she suppresses her smile with pinched lips to avoid any offense. It may not have been his intent, after all. The man carries his beauty with a chill that she thinks many suitors would be keen on...at least until they were met with wit. In her experience, men who seek to clasp at fair hands want one of two things, neither of which have anything to do with thoughts or the words that carry them.

Clear eyes take him in only once before returning to the crowd, and Vanessa will nod in due acceptance to the role she's been given. She will not be the babe who wails for Mother to lift her up while everyone else is learning to walk.

"If a warm disposition is required for the role, then I fear I too will fall short. We must be careful who we approach as one company, then, lest they go frigid."

Her warmth is reserved for others like her: the lost or broken. Future friends, lovers...even enemies. Never for the men who are drunk on avarice and lust. They're so much lesser. That includes the demons that lurk in her shadow. It seems that everyone here so far has their own demons at their back, so Vanessa must wonder which ones whisper in his ear. The beautiful man's posture is even more striking than hers; his control is palpable. His demons must be great, then.

This judgment only seems to content her, and she's more than comfortable remaining in silence for the time being (as silent as anything can be with the clatter of a crowd about them).

If only such time could extend until their exit. Peace was sweet while it lasted.

[ ooc; Feel free to ignore if you want to handwave, I just wanted to sneak a little taggy in for my own sake. Absolutely no pressure! ]