Noah happily took the shilling, but he hesitated when the man invited him in. Though he wanted more money and certainly wouldn't protest a free meal, he wasn't dressed for a place like this, and didn't want to get in trouble with the staff. Finally, he decided to take the risk and he ran in after the man, staying close behind him, to make it clear that he was with him.

Some well dressed gentlemen and ladies wrinkled their noses at the sight of him, and Noah turned red and kept his eyes fixed on the man in front of him.

The host of the restaurant approaches with a smile plastered onto his features. He was a tall man with a thin mustache and he spoke with an obviously affected posh accent. "Hello sir and..." The host's gaze drifts to Noah who he decides to just ignore. "Do you have a reservation?" This is directed at Quentin clearly with the intent of using it as an excuse to get both him, who looked like he belonged and Noah who did not out of the restaurant. Despite the fact that they clearly had tables for two.

"No," Quentin says and the host opens his mouth to make some platitude when Quentin says with a friendly grin. "But I am sure you can find a table for myself and the boy. My name is Quentin North, the Marquise of Edenhall." This was said just loud enough for those present to hear. The moment he said his name and title the murmuring started. Some knew of him thanks to his exploits in the papers alongside the penny dreadfuls about his adventures. But they all knew what his title meant.

The host pauses for a moment with his mouth hanging open as he considers this new information for several moments. Then he coughs and says with absolute difference. "Of course my Lord, right this way." The host actually bows as he indicates which direction Quentin should start walking.

Noah was hardly surprised that he was going to be kicked out, but when the man mentioned his name, the boy watched in amazement as the host changed attitude entirely and heads turned. Noah jutted his chin out and looked around at the whispering people with a cocky expression, as if the man's fame reflected on him, and these people had been wrong to scrunch their noses at him. "Didn't know you was famous..." he said, following the man.

"It rather raises the question if I am if you haven't heard of me." He says with a chuckle as he settles down at the table for two. Ordering a glass of ice water for himself and Noah. He might have gotten wine but he didn't believe in drinking alone and he wasn't going to get any for the boy for obvious reasons. Once the host is gone to get a waiter to fetch them water Quentin looks back to the teen.

"Now, I still need to decide what, if anything, I am to do with or for you." He says drumming his fingers on the table. "First, tell me my boy. Based on how I have treated you and knowing that I am nobility, what do you think that I believe the mark of true nobility is. Don't rush your answer, take your time and think about it." He was hoping that by this point the lad was sufficiently engaged to not just blurt out that he didn't know.

Noah wondered whether he had offended the man by letting him know that he didn't know the guy. He didn't send him away however, and so Noah sat down and resolved to tread more carefully.

The resolution didn't last long, because Noah was about to blurt out his first thought in response to the man's question, when the man told him to take his time and think about it. Thinking was not his strongest side. Noah furrowed his brows together and looked at the man, trying to figure out what answer he wanted to hear. "Bein' famous? No." Based on how he had treated him... "Not beatin' up gobshites like me?"

Quentin was not particularly upset that the boy didn't know him. His fame meant very little to him, though his writer... Mathias Quiss certainly thought that the fame was worth emphasizing. The man had embellished more than a few of the stories he'd written down. Though now that Quiss no longer actively travelled with him the stories had gotten a bit more fantastical.

"Hrmm, you are actually close," Quentin says before taking a sip of water. "What would be the reason for a man to not beat up gobshites like you?"

Noah looked at the man puzzled. He really didn't understand where this was going. His mouth was slightly open and his eyebrows knitted together. All this thinking was rather exhausting. "Because I'm poor?" he asked.

"Is that not typically the reason to do it?" Quentin says arching an eyebrow. "You get beaten because you are poor and no one cares if you get hurt." He states it as a fact aware of its validity. He could sometimes seem to live in his own world but he was acutely aware of the reality he lived in. "One last try my lad, if you had to give a name to the treatment I've given you thus far what would it be?"

Nah. Usually Noah got his ass kicked for being stupid and not thinking his actions through. He closed his mouth, but his frown remained. Why was this man questioning him? Was he going to give him money for it? Rich people were so weird. "Charity, ser?" he tried.

"It appears as though you can think things through. I would have also accepted kindness." A waiter approaches and informs the two of what the chef had prepared today. There was fresh tuna steak, beef wellington, and roast rack of lamb for main lunch dishes, with fresh greens, and seasoned potatoes as the side dishes. Quentin orders the tuna steak.

"Now, as for the reason why I asked you to think on this is two-fold. First, I am trying to get a sense of your intelligence and ability to think things through. Continued impulsive actions like attempted muggings are going to end poorly for you in the long run. The fact that you could divine my motivations means that with some coaching you are capable of thinking things through." Quentin explains as a basket of fresh warm sliced white bread is laid onto the table with a little dish of butter.

Taking a piece of bread for himself Quentin continues. "You also now have a better idea not only of my motivations but the sort of things I value. You now know that I considering charity and kindness to be the mark of true nobility. Now, let's continue putting you to the test. Why would knowing what I put value in be of value to you lad?"