If he had not known about the 'man's' odd gender physically he would have taken the nerves displayed to Florence as a sign of yet another unwilling whore. One had been bad enough, if that was what the blond Anel was. Certainly something was wrong there. But it was Florence's choice and she was deft at relaxing people, at getting them to play into her delicate, deadly little hands. He would leave her affairs to her and focus on his own; he had promised money here but he wondered if he would want to return. Perhaps at least once, to get some time with the dark haired beauty who had glided in and taken the drunken Anel away.<br/><br/>His eyes had stayed half on Atticus once his question was spoken and he found the way that the other man bowed his head, while elegant, made him uncomfortable for the subservience it spoke of. The words made it no better. Nicholas jaw clenched slightly as he repressed a sudden welling of disgust at the tone, the seductive bent of it.<br/><br/>The artist's thunder grey eyes set on the body guard, lips thinned. "I would prefer if you spoke to me only in your normal voice, as you have before this moment. I have no use for such tricks. It is the visual of you I wished to engage."<br/><br/>Nic leaned in, lifting Florence's hand that he held and he pressed a kiss to it, "Enjoy yourself sweet lady, I will join you in an hour." The tall Knight let go of her hand then, stepping toward Atticus and gesturing for him to lead the way to whatever room they were to go to.