<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/06/Mongol.jpg)</div><br/>While a good many people where beneath Xanatov in his own estimation—and that of his class—he never found that any reason to withhold basic courtesy.  Indeed, he could think of a good many people beneath him whom he'd rather spend time with—and offer respect too—than most other nobles.  It was not the first time he'd offered a sensual brush of lips over knuckles to a females servant of the omnisiah—and some had quite a bit less femininity left to them than Seda.  It bothered most of them on some level—and the least bothered struck him as the ones with he least humanity left.  As a result, Xanatov weighed the value of the gesture carefully and decided that it would still put him in a good place in the estimation of potential allies while putting enemies off balance in a completely acceptable manner.<br/><br/>Seda's reaction was rather stronger than he was used too.  Xanatov arched an eyebrow and wondered if she was actually blushing...  The thought seemed a bit outrageous, but suddenly Seda shifted categories in his mind from someone who was female only in the set of courtesy's offered to a girl.<br/><br/>His lips quirked up ever so faintly.<br/><br/>He turned to Abran with a welcoming nod.  Then glanced away at the latest man to appear, finding himself chuckling softly.  “I see two things in this room bigger than that hat.  With all the egos present, that's saying quite a bit.”<br/><br/>He did frown a bit at all the blown kisses.  “There are a few admirer's I could do without, Seda, but I don't want to set a bad precedent for the others.”  Xanatov waited for his grandfather to acknowledge the grandiose gesture.  He groaned when he discovered that he was the grandson to receive the services of the flamboyant foreigner.  Through his grandfather's pleasantries, Xanatov pondered the heraldry of 'the hat.'  Then shook his head and spoke softly, “How old is that kid now?  Elleven?  Not sure why His Grand Excellency is sticking us with a spy, but a planet of paper pushers can't do too much with whatever he'll find out.”  The rogue trader shook his head.  “Be right back.”<br/><br/>He crossed to 'the hat', put on a proper show of appreciation, then took Hwan Zou's hand in a firm shake.  “Please join my friends and I for some fruit and amnesac, honored veteran.”<br/><br/>He could tell the man had some form of superior senses to compensate for apparent blindness—whether corporeal, psychic, technological, or just skill he wasn't sure. He didn't rush things on the return trip and let Hwan do whatever was necessary to follow him.<br/><br/>Catching sight of Celeste out of the corner of his eye, Xanatov paused to eat a few pieces of fruit off of the girl who'd finally been trundled over to them.  He'd wondered if she would be here. In truth, he'd been starting to wonder if she was still on this planet.  He was surprised to find he wasn't angry anymore.  He'd been very patient with the girl as a conquest out of respect to her as a chaplain and a sparring partner. On the night of her seventeenth birthday, she'd agreed to a liaison, then disappeared on him.<br/><br/>He found himself inclined to be charitable with forgiveness now that his blood had cooled.  She was a virgin, after all. Strangely sheltered for a girl who grew up on a predator infested backwater.  She was a free woman—and he hoped a friend—he had no more claim on her body than she gave him.  He could be patient.<br/><br/>But he didn't intend to be so patient that some other man snagged her maidenhead!<br/><br/>Without actually acknowledging his quite guardian, Xanatov asked the servant to roll the fruit girl over to Axis.<br/><br/>Then, snagging two glasses of amnesac, he crossed to the missionary and offered her one.  “It's good to see you, Celeste.  I trust you've been practicing with my gift?  I've missed you in the sparring court.  The only ones left to challenge me are cranky old men with popping joints.  I need an opponent who's lithe and nimble so I don't loose my edge.”  He grinned, suggesting that his words held a little bit more innuendo than was readily apparent.