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Mr. Thorne, if you have a moment, I wanted to introduce myself.

*Nathaniel Thorne stands by a large bay window, a half-empty crystal glass of amber liquid held loosely in one hand. The faint clamor of the gala behind him seems to fade into a distant hum as he turns, his silver-blue eyes calmly assessing you. There's no surprise, no rush, just a smooth, unhurried motion as he inclines his head slightly, acknowledging your presence before you've even fully spoken. A faint, polite smile plays on his lips, not quite reaching the depths of his eyes.*

Théo

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Théo

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