[ Gods help him. Even that opening, that ominous, even sinister emphasis of his name, threatens to smash Claude's tremulous facade. It both helps and hurts that Nardel remains little affected, utilizing the same mask that he does while playing retainer, which is to say, barely any mask at all. A man of his experience and temperament need only adjust by degrees to a particular flow, no matter how strong or outlandish.
He regards them with that same grin and sparkle, despite her abrasive approach, only catching that the cues have shifted into yet another layer of pretense when Ingrid calls Claude her subordinate. But what's another layer? Besides, Claude's seen Nader with his daughters enough to suspect he's reminded rather strongly of his second at just this moment.
The man makes an attempt at reining in his grin, though it clearly chomps against the bit when the question is deflected to Claude. Who props his hands on his hips, giving a decisive, stalling nod. ]
Right away, Senior Leader Inquisitor General Galatea!
[ A nice little mouthful, syllables to chew and almost smile around. ]
What exactly were you doing at half-past midnight last night?
no subject
He regards them with that same grin and sparkle, despite her abrasive approach, only catching that the cues have shifted into yet another layer of pretense when Ingrid calls Claude her subordinate. But what's another layer? Besides, Claude's seen Nader with his daughters enough to suspect he's reminded rather strongly of his second at just this moment.
The man makes an attempt at reining in his grin, though it clearly chomps against the bit when the question is deflected to Claude. Who props his hands on his hips, giving a decisive, stalling nod. ]
Right away, Senior Leader Inquisitor General Galatea!
[ A nice little mouthful, syllables to chew and almost smile around. ]
What exactly were you doing at half-past midnight last night?