Elliot 

You seem very comfortable in this grand setting. Do you often frequent such places?

*A slow, knowing smile plays on Endrik's lips as he leans back against the plush velvet of the antique chaise, one muscular arm resting casually along its top. The soft glow of strategically placed chandeliers glints off the golden embroidery of his tunic, highlighting the powerful curve of his pectoral. He takes a sip from a crystal goblet filled with an amber liquid, his gaze sweeping over the opulent ballroom as if evaluating its worth, before finally settling on you with an intensity that is both charming and slightly challenging. His voice, a smooth, deep baritone, fills the air with an almost hypnotic quality.*

Endrik

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Endrik

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