As Master Ryan talked, Atticus struggled against the urge to bite his lower lip again. The marks the Master had left were visable enough as they were without his actions calling attention to either. He instead let his gaze slide towards Fi and – what was his name? – wondering what had happened with the composer. One less thing to worry about. Lord Aldrich wouldn’t cause issue... why was Zara not at the piano?<br/><br/>He wanted to linger and ask Mary about who was currently entertaining, but the party were moving into Master Ryan’s office and he didn’t have time. No matter, he would see soon enough with the line-up.<br/><br/>He was the last one into the room, and shut the door before standing a few feet from it at the wall, and only then letting his tongue flick briefly on the stinging bite. He had been mistaken; it had meant something. It had meant pleasure and freedom, and he was a petulant child to think it had been anything else. His gaze lifted to Master Ryan and smiled briefly before schooling his features back to neutrality.<br/><br/>He had to not think about it, or at least not let it distract him, and focus on these two. He settled his body and his mind, watching their body language, wondering if they would feel nervous about him or if they would choose to ignore him like so many clients did.<br/>