Chéri turned towards the window for a moment and shook his head. “I don’t find you neither difficult nor odd. And I am not a big talker, you know?” he seemed really calm as he said that, as if the thought itself was kind of relaxing. “If you mean French, that is a problem, sure, but I’m sure if your Sonia is as good as you say she will help me with that. And the madam herself speaks French.” Though she doubted she was *actually* French. “You are very harsh with yourself, I’m glad you give yourself at least this.” He added, adjusting the back almost majestically. He had something of the princeling, when he sat p like that.

Calliope arroge the body as requested and that implied turning his head to something else, so that his eyes could only occasionally turn to Darius. “I think I was eleven, maybe twelve. Artists would visit my dance atelier and ask pupils to pose after work and I was pretty even then, so they often asked. I think there must be half a dozen angels that are either my body or my face spread around France.”