He hated that he felt the need to mention what he heard, but she gave the best reaction to it, with the blush lighting up her face. He tried his best not to smile. That became infinitely harder when she touched his hand. It was a tragedy that Lyra Bremmington would be moved to such gratitude for a simple show of kindness. It made him more determined to help her. "Not at all, Ms. Bremmington." he assured her and tried to wear a comforting face instead of grinning madly from her attention.<br/><br/>His bright eyes clipped with brown lashes when she asked him for help. It was impossible. He was going to work here his entire life. He hoped to be head of some area of responsibility one day. If he didn't die for thinking of going against the favorite son, he'd spend his career worried someone would find out. Either way his life would be over. It wasn't like you could get hired in this city if the Geslacks didn't want you to. He swallowed and was about to tell her no, there was nothing he could do, or think of that could help the boy-king's pet run away.<br/><br/>"I could get you some Vannesroot." he said. He didn't even regret it. "It's said to be the inspiration for the Root Veil. It's not as dangerous but more than enough to make a person sick." he said and pointed to the window. "It's bad fresh, but dried we use it for teas. It grows like a weed under the roses." He pointed to the food. "I'll meet you in the corridor. Put it in the garnish for his meat." he said and then he was off with a last smile in her direction, over his shoulder.<br/><br/>This was the most alive he'd felt in his entire life. This was the most amount of emotions his heart had ever contained. He laughed to himself, worried the sweat of his hands would affect the impact of the Vannesroot, but he waited for her while pretending to dust a lamp. When she came he'd pass her, and leave the green flower.It's pollen was enough to make large men sick with a light iteration of the blood cough. If you were not treated and took bed-rest for the better part of a fortnight, it could well weaken you onto death.<br/><br/>Engel would not be so worried, lounging exactly where she'd left him, and as she'd left him, naked and well made, with a noticeably thinner bunch of pages on the other side of his finger. For a demon, he looked the part of an angel too, especially with the carvings of the bedboard fanning our behind him like wings. Perhaps his beauty was daunting because the ill things he did were similar in nature - perfect. He'd look at her and sigh with contentment to see her cooperating. "My bride!" arms up as the book feel to his stomach. "Come here. Let's just stay in bed for a while, and then I'll take you to see my garden. Have you heard the story of how the Veil was inspired? I'll tell you all about it." he patted the place  beside him again, where she'd hugged herself to unconsciousness.