"Miss Beyard."
Just then, a young man with black hair approached, looking similarly young.
He raised his ceramic cup in a friendly gesture, filled to the brim with fresh blood.
Trailing behind him was a beautiful girl with golden long hair - Aiwass had just seen her in the resting room; she was number 15. Her deep blue eyes also exuded a bewitching attachment, thus appearing vacant.
"Sir Lindt."
Beyard was interrupted and, therefore, seemed displeased.
She lifted a finger to push her glasses and responded indifferently, "What do you require?"
"Far from it, Miss Beyard. I wouldn't dare to instruct you."
The handsome black-haired youth smiled as he poured a pre-dinner drink for Beyard himself. Then when Beyard pinched the porcelain cup with one hand, he gently clinked his cup against hers, producing a clear sound.
"We don't discuss serious matters in the manor," Beyard warned.
"Of course."
