There's something mildly disturbing about this pale beauty. While she certainly seemed as average as any mortal woman, there's something almost surreal about her. Once Celeborn's gaze returned to Rosalie, the Elvenlord found himself somewhat unnerved by how still she was.

It's as if he's speaking with a statue rather than a living person. Not once did she blink her eyes and not once did she utter a single breath. She was cold and frigid almost if she was carved out of ice. Not quite sure what to make of this odd woman, Celeborn averted his perplexed gaze from her yet again as he spoke. This time he was focusing his sights elsewhere as he leisurely strolled around the lobby.

"Quite a shame that." he replied idly in hopes that this woman couldn't sense his mild distress. "One such as I have very little need for extravagance and in truth would rather have necessities rather than luxury." That's the honest truth. Celeborn sees no need in such fanciness and never will.