It was Geralt's turn to raise his eyebrows. These days it took much to surprise him, but this was more of a knowing nod. These people clearly knew who they were looking for. They were not solicitors or zealots or auditors, they were something else. An entirely different breed.

[color=9e0b0f][i]Soft and juicy insides this one has, like a perfectly ripe white peach. He'd taste divine...[/i][/color]

He seated himself lightly on the couch behind him, stretching out on it and crossing one leg over the other. [color=crimson]"Hhm, you know your Deutsche, and with a strong strong accent. Je suis impressionné,"[/color] Geralt said in perfect French, though his accent reflected a more northern lilt. He swirled his own glass, all but forgetting that there were three of them in the room. He had eyes only for Lucien.

[color=crimson]"Your name though, that's interesting. Latin...what part of France are you from exactly? I couldn't have been too far off.."[/color] His eyes slid over Lucien's body and he recrossed his legs as the tilted the wine glass against his lips and took a sip, doing nothing to hide his interest.