It does occur to Carissa about twenty minutes into her beauty appointment, which thankfully involves things being spread on her face and doesn't require much of even her unenhanced attention, that nobles who are also fifth-circle sorcerers don't run miscellaneous transportation errands Security could handle.
Doesn't she have a country to run? But that's not even a reasonable complaint, really, because everyone knows full well that this little project is the most important thing in it, and that this little project will succeed or fail on Carissa's judgement.
And if it fails, then if she's lucky she'll go to Hell.
Asmodia could not possibly be less relatable; Carissa finds herself in fact utterly furious with her, for having the thing Carissa wants more than anything else in the world, and trying, like a toddler too caught in the throes of a tantrum to be reasoned with, to rid herself of it, the only inheritance she has, the only good thing about being human.
She does remember to ask if she can also be fitted for clothes appropriate to her hypothetical station.