She'd noticed him too. His presence is hard for her to ignore, spread out as she is. She's like water lapping at a beach in the Force, even if she doesn't know it. But him... he's like a tumultuous storm, tamed only by sheer will. It's weird, and she doesn't like it.

But, manners are ingrained in her. She snaps to her feet and performs a perfect curtsey. "Misa, sir."

She doesn't look up. Men don't like a courtesan that will meet their eyes, unless they are Mistress of a house.