A Little Chat [Vasiliev Party]

[Nesrin Aziz]

Nesrin stood when he did, though she did not move to follow. Her fingers laced neatly; she might well have been the waitress she professed to be, though his tone suggested he doubted the simplicity. Her background didn’t speak otherwise: on paper, Nesrin really was what she appeared.

His departure from the suite came with some relief, for whatever Nesrin’s unflappable confidence in her art, the man literally radiated intensity. And he’d been difficult to read; a blend of charm and control and inner deliberation practically impenetrable. She privately scoffed at the idea of fate – she certainly wouldn’t be careless with the opportunity. And she wouldn’t be beholden on the Custody for the truth. Which meant she’d need to begin planning a cash injection to her coffers, and a proposition for m'Antinomian.