Tavyan Frey was an arrogant fool for his actions. After all, had that not gotten him in the situation he had been found in? Taking the nymph had not been a wise idea on his part, either, but the sidhe queen had nefarious tastes, so leaving the lovely creature to her hands was worse than involving her in the first place. He knew this, stalking back out into his enchanted enclave, to see her like a wisp looking over the chapters of his collection. Standing there  innocently with her hair pulled over her shoulder. He almost grinned as he stopped short in front of her at his own inner musings, but instead kept his expression devoid of the elfin charm his kind often possessed. Instead, his eyes dropped down to the book in her hands.<br/><br/><br/>“They know where most of them are, but they cannot get inside,” he corrected himself. And her to a degree. Lifting his hand up, he pushed it back down on the spine of the book to lower it and better catch a glimpse of her eyes. “And we have only just gotten here.”<br/><br/><br/>This time he did smile, causing the angles of his face to tilt, the darkness of his eyes to crinkle. When he lifted his hand again it was to capture the silk of her gown between his fingers. “Do you need to change, my dear Nephelai?”<br/><br/><br/>He did not touch her once he released his hold on her dress, a mere pinch of fabric between his fingers, and he continued to not touch her when he lifted his hands up as if he might cradle her face in his palms, instead letting his fingertips hover just over her skin. “We can find you something more comfortable to wear. Then I can leave you to the pages of my book, if that is what you wish.”<br/><br/><br/>Because what he wished resounded in the momentum of his stare, sizzled in his fingertips, and pulsed off his form that stood just a little too close to hers, and in the way he dipped his head temptingly close to hers, only to have him grin wider and lean over her instead so that the bare skin of his flesh that peeked from underneath the robe grazed the bare skin of her arm. His hands sought a book next to her head instead, dragging it from the shelf, then he stepped away.<br/><br/><br/>“And why would you wait for your payment?”<br/><br/><br/>He turned away from her, a dark shadow in this contrived place, to flop down on an overstuffed chair next to a window that looked out over the breeze swept fields they had walked through.