[Aurvael and Stephanivien look at each other. "Brother, your shelves are built into your walls. They were custom Dzemael, remember?]

[Aymeric squeezed the bridge of his nose as a headache was coming on. As this conversation dragged on he dressed. Everything but his coat now- That was simply folded over his arm. And his shirt wasn't laced either, but. He wasn't naked. He stepped forward and opened the door, tousled hair and all.]

Gentlemen, your concern is most admirable, but you will find it sorely misplaced. Pardon our brusqueness, but we have a show to attend.

[He topped it off with one of his diplomatic smiles and nodded to Francel.]

We must be on our way, my Lord.