Ariel remained motionless, as if he were part of the decoration, while the people nearby argued about the choice of music. They both had their points, of course, but if anyone was going to be punished for this it would most definitely be the guest, who the statue expected would never set foot in any of Octave's parties ever again.

Things were going on, that much the statue noticed, ignoring the dancer this time as he screened the room once more. Commotion at the main gate, agitated servants, whisperings around the room. Perhaps this was the way a normal party was supposed to go? How was he supposed to keep tabs on anything when the guards were doing their own thing, though, and kept him in the dark? He was definitely not capable of keeping track of the way everything was not going how it should on his own.

He would've sighed if he had been able. Of course, he wasn't. He was supposed to look impressive and intimidate Octave's enemies, who had probably been invited to the party as well just so he could brag; all under the excuse of being hired to keep watch - but when push came to shove, it was clear that Octave didn't expect anything out of the mercenaries, and a lot more of his own guards. Just like the dancing slave, just like the paintings and the food, he was there so that Octave could brag. He shook his head slowly - with any luck, the boredom and the worries would be worth it. And, if he had to look at the silver lining of this awful job, at least he had an excellent view of the dancer, though his sense of duty kept from doing more than sneaking glances at her as she performed.

A sight caught his attention as the dance went on - a destitute-looking man, who had just made his way out of the commotion in the main gate. It wasn't Ariel's job to check for who was authorized to be here, true, but the man's appearance was so vastly different to everything else that he was seeing in the party that he had to wonder just where he'd come from. Probably one badly-treated slave, owned by a master who didn't want to conceal his cruelty in public. A sad sight indeed, he thought as he followed the man with his eyes, curious about who his master would be. Perhaps Octave himself?