“There is nothing to forgive, Herr Goethe.” Shay responded with a polite smile. Turning to the cantankerous older woman, Shay’s disposition didn’t flap and he affectionately cradled Vera’s arm within his own. “They might have been primitive, perhaps, but they certainly knew how to build a legacy. Simply cracking open a tomb and seeing their art and culture preserved for literally thousands of years is simply astonishing. It is like stepping back through time, a prospect I am sure everyone’s dreamt about on at least one occasion.” He said before Vera took the brunt of Frau Goethe’s venom. The Irishman greatly preferred the gentleman over his wife; she would be someone he felt only satisfaction from having robbed.

The German aristocrat’s invitation came suddenly, and Shay took a moment to compose himself; he was expecting a much harder time of having the man even entertain the idea. “I don’t know what to say, truly, it would be an honour.” Shay said, surprising himself with how genuine the sentiment felt. It would also give him a time to dig up some resources on both Monet and Egyptian art; he had to sell to the man he knew what the fuck he was talking about. “It would be our genuine pleasure, and I must admit a selfish desire on my own part to see your accumulated collection, Herr Goethe. Shall we set a date, then?”

A few moments later, and with a note with both the address and time written down with Herr Goethe’s exquisite penmanship, Vera and Shay parted from the German couple and returned to the bar counter where Eris had first greeted them. Shay ordered himself a glass of champagne as they waited for Eris to return. He chuckled nervously, the tension of the moment finally wearing down on him. “My Lord, Vera, I never thought I had it in me. He seemed to buy our act, aye?” he asked, smiling in thanks as the bartender returned with his drink. “If you don’t mind my saying so, you were damned brilliant in handling that miserable hag. I had half a mind to throw a drink at her face.”