We're going to suppose that a very good looking young man, reading sedately on a windowsill, focused in all appearances on a heavy mythological volume might count as entertainment... considering who he is.
Oooh, he does look entertaining. She smiles, just a little, tucks her blue black hair behind her ears, and leans slightly in his direction. "Excuse me?"
Isn't he fine. Subtly admiring. He would make a nice pet, and she can tell that he's a fighter as well. Interesting. She gives him the smallest of almost shy smiles. "I hope I am not disturbing your reading so much, though I am curious what tome holds your attention so..."
He holds the book up. It's Malory's Morte Darthur, because the typist is obsessed with it these days and can't think of anything else and it could be amusing, considering who Melisande knows. "This."
The book has the picture of a knight, vanquishing a dragon on a green field of battle.
"No, don't think we have." Hm, she has remarkable hair, and her dress is medieval. Maybe some Arthurian or someone from -- but there aren't any black haired women in Tolkien, Niko thinks to himself. "James Carlisle," he offers, casually.
We're sure Niko is thinking hard. Melisande smiles. "Just returned. I have been here before, but was away for some time, unfortunately... I don't believe we've met?"
"And I might say the same." Her smile is easy, relaxed, and only the slightest bit predatory. "Some faces one does not forget. I am curious, though...is there news I should know?"
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The book has the picture of a knight, vanquishing a dragon on a green field of battle.
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Call that instinct.
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