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"Oh." A blessing at least, in the moment, that Grier is not completely oblivious. The quicker patter. The way his gaze wanders, picking out little things to focus on to keep his line of thinking on track. Always circling back, especially when perpetuating a point. Sort of impossible to mistake because gods if he didn't do a lot of that himself, when there was occasion to.

But still, a little surprise. A bit of lightness that rises in his chest as there often was in these interludes of discussion they had now and again, moreso when they were more stolen and private. Wish for longer moments, more words even if things to say had run short.

But as always better to assume that is one-sided and the sort of thing he can survive on his own lest his blundering kill further interactions entirely. He fully believed the Necromancer might find the whole experience more bracing with someone else.

And of course, in terms of tactics.

"I --" a breath. "I would be delighted of course. ...Though I cannot say I know much about formal Nevarran affairs."

"Would you really?" He can't quite help the look of hopeful surprise that flashes across his face before he manages to school his expression. Grier is reserved, somewhat skittish at times. Keeping close to himself, and Emmrich has been working on coaxing him out a little. He doesn't want to appear overeager and send him running again.

"Well I'd be happy to teach you a little, rather then let you go in completely blind. I wouldn't want you to feel lost in an unfamiliar situation."

"And I'd hardly wish to reflect poorly on you in front of a colleague." He can blend in to an unfamiliar situation if he must, but he very much doubts he will be any help convincing someone to talk if he's seen as embarrassing, distracting, or distasteful. And it is just for business, but there's a good deal he likes about Emmrich Volkarin, and there is some potential in seeing how he interacts in a more native environment, perhaps around more people like him.

There will be no rush at the event itself. This person would not be throwing a party if they were imminently expected at another. There will be time to breathe, and then to prepare.

...That part just now involves a number of other factors he had yet to consider.

"Oh please, I find you perfectly charming." His fingers clutch a little tighter at the paper wrapped parcel to keep from reaching out to touch Grier's arm or chest while saying so, though the urge is there. Strongly.

It isn't just that Emmrich talks with his hands more or less constantly, because he does. Or just that he sometimes touches his conversational partner to underline a point, because that's true as well. It's because he wants, specifically, to touch Grier right now. To reassure him that he is lovely company, and that Emmrich would be happy to have him by his side at a party.

So he distracts himself with the other matter at hand. "We were in the markets in Treviso the other day, and I saw you at one of the clothing stalls." Emmrich, you fool, he knows that. He was there too. Obviously.

He carries on -- "There was a coat that caught your attention and, well. It was a little formal for our normal adventuring, I think. But I also thought that it would be quite well suited for this particular adventure. And so -- " With a smile and a slight bow, he holds it out. Hoping he hasn't overstepped. "Please, with my compliments. I think it would look so well on you."

"Oh."

He's just a fountain of new and exciting words tonight.

Clearly.

He takes the package carefully, a little breathless at first.

"...I didn't think anyone noticed."

He didn't glance at many, something of just a private fancy, perhaps remembering when he took a liking for such things, in another time and place, even before the Wardens. And it was all right to admire even if there was not time to indulge, and there were no craftsmen in the marketplace that did not ply their trade with skill and pride.

He opens the parcel delicately, and seeing the bundle unfold he barely contains a gasp. There were several he appraised, but this had been the one that he might have lingered on a moment or two more.

Well-stitched, the coat was beautifully structured, flaring just slightly at the hip and feeling full like a cope, with a fur-lined collar and a glimmer of subtle (but still gold) embellishments.

The sort of piece he might have once traded a magical favor for, really.

He knew even looking it over then that it would fit near, if not perfectly, requiring very little additional work.

"I don't believe I have ever received a finer gift." He handles it carefully, folding it over one arm to stop its ends touching the floor. "You must let me know what you will be selecting, so I can plan the rest of my ensemble accordingly. ...Try to match the level of formality, I mean."

Because it's not like he's trying to match outfits or anything. That would be weird.

He stops, aware he has missed a step before he circles back to it mentally. "...Thank you, Professor. Truly."

Edited 2025-04-27 02:07 (UTC)

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