The redhead's eyes went to Anel for a moment as Atticus took her arm and drew her off, concern for both the pale blond and for the man touching her showing in them before she pushed them away and was merely easily smiling again. The touch of Atticus' gloved hands was most welcome, like a sweet addiction that none but her knew of. She was proud in herself that she kept from blushing or from thinking about memories that had no place in this moment. Elegantly her head tilted to listen to the whisper of his voice, that familiar voice that so often conversed with her about books and words.<br/><br/>It startled her though, to hear him speak of taking any sort of 'client'; she knew how hard his past had been on him and the worry that darkened her eyes she made no effort to hide. It was all too easy to remember how he had been when he had first arrived at the Teahouse.<br/><br/>She bit her lower lip, wondering if her rejecting the request would keep him from risking what little happiness and peace he had had here. But no, Atticus was stubborn and it was clear he was already set upon doing this. What prompting had happened? Ryan would not have pressured him into it would he? Her eyes moved to the strangers, noting the uneasy with which the artist stood. She frowned, considering before she realized who it was thanks to her connection with Lady Stanbury; grey eyed Nicholas Bereck had won many hearts among the nobles and when she drew idle gossip from one of her most common clients she often paid attention.<br/><br/>Again her eyes went back to Atticus, wishing she dared more then she could in so public an area; what lay between them though outside of the public parts of the House were private and meant to stay that way until he desired otherwise. That was the haven she could offer him. She shook her head, a wry, sad smile on her lips as she spoke in a soft thread of whispers. "He is, an artist that is. Lady Lorraine has spoken of him, he's quiet the fashion these days, if that makes you feel any better? He's a Knight as well, are you not glad now I declined to turn you into a beast when I slayed those words for you?" She tried at a joke, wanting to ease the pain she sensed in him, the confusion and hurt. Perhaps later she could get him to relax, read him poetry or something. She squeezed his hand lightly. "I'll take nothing from it though, whatever money he's offering should go to you. You know I don't hurt for clients and if money is your reason for this then I would not deny you even a cooper of what is yours. Just...be careful with yourself dear friend, even if the money is tempting."