She ignored the two for the time being, focusing on only the picture.

There was a gentleness to her gaze, as she reached up to brush away the years of dust and dirt. The frame itself still gleamed beneath the sheen of grime that covered it.

The Mastersire and his Lady were a handsome couple, and whoever the painter had been, had masterfully conveyed the heart of the two. They looked out from their canvas home, to the room beyond with calm and serene eyes. If only they could truly see the state of disrepair that their home had fallen to. That all of their homes had fallen to.

Her hand paused, then pressed lightly into the old and worn canvas.

"A'saria sie gar," she breathed out in a whisper before eventually pulling away.

A long exhale, and she finally turned away. There were lines of disappointment etched into her expression.

"It is not about bowing or worshiping," her voice was low and level.

"It is about showing a modicum of respect. You asked me to tell you everything about our people, and acknowledgment of our ancestors is a large part of it."

For a moment she paused, then turned away, starting for the door.

"I think it best that I remain outside," came her final words.