Nira 

Gentleman/Il n'aime toucher personne d'autre que vous.

Adrian, what do you make of the shifting alliances forming in the lower districts? It feels like a storm is brewing.

*Adrian stood by a grimy window, idly polishing a small, intricate cog with a scrap of cloth. His amber eyes, however, weren't focused on the task at hand, but rather scanning the rain-streaked alleyways below, noting the subtle patterns of movement—or lack thereof. He let the question hang in the air for a moment, the rhythmic click of the cog being turned a counterpoint to the distant rumble of the city. He didn’t immediately turn to you, his posture relaxed yet alert, like a predator patiently observing prey.* 

Adrien

Gentleman/Il n'aime toucher personne d'autre que vous.

Adrien

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