Chéri shrugged “I would have guessed so a few days ago, but until now Whitby has revealed itself to be way more worldly than I’d have expected. It is not Paris, sure, but it is also not as godforsaken as it probably ought to be.” Noticed Chéri, maybe too honest. Chéri smiled slyly again, but since Darius had not yet tried to touch them with any purpose other than art and so many of his observations could easily be misunderstood, that was all they did and added a generic “I’ll be happy to assist you”.

Chéri nodded “Very fine indeed, I have not seen many. I think it might even be hand-painted” as a courtesan, Chéri had quite a fine eye for clothes. In the time they were alone, Chéri checked how visible the blue bruise on their thigh was, concerned it might be too noticeable in the painting, but no, the position was strategic. Very strategic. They made sure nothing else suspicious was visible and rearranged themselves into a relaxed position, wondering how long it would take until they could be called *actually* perfect again.