The two stood behind her, silent and observant in their identical ink-black uniforms, Catlin blonde-haired and blue-eyed to Florian's black and grey. They looked similar enough to be siblings, though Catlin was fractionally taller.

Catlin had clocked the difficult position the hallway put them in the moment she stepped into it. Should somebody shoot down its length, there was nowhere to go save out of the front door behind them, and those doors were stiff and unyielding. She wondered if they only opened with magic from the inside, too.

Florian considered that it was probably for the safety of those inside. It was daunting, being on the receiving end of it, and it made him uncomfortably aware of their vulnerable position, but once they stepped into the open hall he felt better. Not safer, so much. Just rather less hemmed in. He watched Catlin scan the larger room, taking into account all of the doors and blindspots. It was a credit to her poise that she didn't brush her gun with her fingers.

He had.

Florian felt the magic in the palace. It was a powerful sensation, deep and heavy, like being plunged into water and held there. It wasn't too much for him to handle -- thick as it was it mostly lingered in the background like the kind of low machine thrum that caught him in the chest, but it was there, at the forefront of everything. Catlin, he knew, wouldn't be paying attention to it, if she'd even noticed it.

There wasn't much point in having two bodyguards with identical strengths and weaknesses, after all.