She would be waiting twenty minutes tops before a tall and girth man, with thinning grey hair, a large nose and thick, fatty layers to his neck, waltzed in, his body laced in the finest of Connlaothian robes and his stance carrying him that spoke volumes of his person.
"Ah, my Lady Viara," he said, bowing deeply and gracefully, at least as much as his gut would allow it. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I am Vesrik Delcheux, personal adviser to the Grand Duke." And he rose up from his bow to flashed her a most charming grin. "My Grace will be here momentarily, but he told me to go on ahead to greet you and to offer you some of our famous, Connlaothian wine. If it so pleases you, my servants already have the bottle and a goblet they're pouring now." And he gestured towards a maid in fancy skirts who moved forward to pour a cup of the deep, red wine.
"This wine, my lady, hails from the same birthplace as our Grand Duke. And the flavor, I assure you, is exquisite." Turning to her, he waited for her to take the gilded cup as he himself took up a second one that was poured and drank a good gulp of it down. "I hope your travel has been well. I know those mountains can be treacherous."