There is some muffled noise in response to the knock, but the door does not immediately open.  Some more muffled noises, some shuffling, the rumbling of what is most likely masculine voices.  Finally, some more shuffling, and the door opens a crack.<br/><br/>A sour-faced man is responsible for the opening door.  His build and dress mark him as another brute, not one of the few survivors from last night's skirmish, but perhaps a cousin, spiritual if not actual.  His expression becomes mildly less sour as he spots the beautiful courtesan, but then becomes sour once again as he spots the sword on her sibling's belt.  Nevertheless, he pulls the door wider, allowing the pair entrance.<br/><br/>The room inside is surprisingly richly furnished, with rich dark woods and soft red fabrics.  Crystal goblets filled with liquors.  The somewhat dark splendor is broken by the sour-faced doorman and a few of his fellows, looking very disreputable as they lean against the wall, or hover towards the back of the room.<br/><br/>The centerpiece, such as it is, is a red half-couch, with a slightly older gentleman seated upon it, either approaching or smack in the middle of middle age.    His thinning red hair and features mark him as Avalonian, although his clothing is in a fashionable Vodacce style.  His build is a touch heavy, made more obvious as he adjusts his seat, having clearly just sat down.  He regards the two, stroking his neatly trimmed beard thoughtfully.  Just before he smiles, his eyes almost seem to gleam.  "Come in, sir, miss.  Be seated.  Lucio, fetch some wine."  He gestures to two chairs across from him, in the same style as the couch, but less grand.  "Please, tell me what brings you to my room.  You may address me as Sir William.  And may I have the honor of knowing your names?"  He smiles, his expression almost jovial.