Atticus descended the main stairs, one hand resting casually on his swordhilt and manipulating it without thought so it wouldn’t foul his step. He wore a fresh shirt and his cheeks were freshly shaved, the crisp scent of his soap lingering about him. He had also changed his trousers. His eyes were half-lidded, slightly drowsy still after taking a few hours to sleep. The quietest hours of the day were when Atticus rested. He found it quite impossible to sleep for more than four hours, but that allowed him to be alert and active more often than not.<br/><br/>There was something else new to his evening wear, though it was visible only by the slightest rise of shirt linen. A glass and gold locket wound under his clothes, so it could kiss his skin with its smooth, cool shape. He didn’t wear it frequently, but the dreams that had harrowed him as he slept made him desperate for some talisman against them.<br/><br/>Had it been Master Ryan’s touch or the mangled terror, anticipation and relief of taking a client? Whatever had summoned them, he’d not had any so bad in months. Perhaps it had even been the smoke he’d indulged in.<br/><br/>His head turned in the direction of the music room, the familiar strains of Zara’s fingerwork dancing darkly through the air. Voices drifted from the offices. Clients? The first wave of the night? Good thing he had woken when he had.<br/><br/>He was rather reluctant to go to Master Ryan’s office. He still hadn’t told the man he’s failed in ensnaring the artist. He wouldn’t be punished – not publicly, or harshly. He knew that. It didn’t make it any easier. It felt like he’d lost every hard-learned skill, to be so cooly snubbed by the man, so instead, he hesitated, lingered in the hallway, cast his gaze through the doorway of the lounge and spied Fiona, resplendent in a golden dress. Red hair and gold fabric. It looked rather unfortunate, to his eye. The rich colour did not favour pale skinned women. Not even Zara would be able to wear it well. Still, what did he know? It might be the fashion and he’d be none the wiser.<br/><br/>He entered the room, offering her a smile. “Good evening, miss. Any clients this evening?”<br/>