The greeting I was about to offer evaporated in my mouth and I tensed a bit, absentmindedly toying with a pen.You nodded to one of your companions and...with an assertive CLICK he locked the door. Another removed the desk phone from its cradle and set down the backpack he had been carrying.Those two men then half-lifted me from my chair and laid me face up on the carpet. I looked up at you with an inquisitive expression, still too stunned to say a word.You simply looked back as if to say, Let it. Once inside, I used the standard disguise of looking like you belong to hide myself. I picked up a basket of food items and carried it to the kitchen. Virane was sitting at the table eating a late supper while his assistants did their preparations for tomorrows meal.“Ah, greetings to you, Master Chef. But aren’t you...”“Yes, yes, I’m a Breton, born in High Rock, now far from my home. Everyone asks me that. I’m no Reachman.”“Ah, High Rock, home of exquisite cooking, isn’t it?”He looked at me. More

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