Rilolia hazarded a guess this butler didn't really notice too much of a difference between her and Chad, drunkard he might have appeared to be. Her once vibrant and expensive clothing had since become dull, dirtied, ruffled and patched in several places. Her beloved hat, most of all, was likely the more tattered of her belongings; and yet, the raggedness made seem all the more lovable. Rilolia glanced at Chad, nearly shrugging as if to brush off the butler's half-compliment, half-insult statement, but for the moment the return to "nobility" felt good. She wouldn't commend the butler, nevertheless.
How the head of Lorerchais had come to know of her excursions into madness was beyond her, but she assumed that notice of the volcanic ruckus must have gotten out quite quickly. She slightly eyed the butler, hesitant but appreciative, hiding behind a facade of distrust.
"Scarlet Court, huh..." she mumbled to herself, "What do they find in Vance that warrants sending a butler to my aid? And how the hell did you know I was here?!" she cried. Certainly, even at the mention of his name, Rilolia recalled nothing of the man. "Lenz Blac" surfaced no memories from her childhood in the Lorerchais mansion.
I feel like calling him Smithers, Rilolia laughed mentally, giving off a devious smile.