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"Would like to say yes, but I wouldn't know. This is my first hangover," he glanced down at the stained cloth in his hand, "apparently among other firsts." Kissing games were one thing, as they'd gone hand in hand with earlier drafts of his trickster reputation. Particularly the harvest and spring festivals, the latter being a fertility holiday. There'd been a few invitations to go a bit further, but 'til now, no reason to do more than politely wave them off. Have I ever been tempted by the company of a woman? Or a man? Always assumed Mother would pin me with a wife to endure sooner or later. There's Sarnai, but that's just fencing with a peer. ...Food for thought. "Appreciated. ...When we've straightened this out, if you want, could try again. Less lost time tho', please. Already paranoid as-is."

Viltre kept his posture relaxed, as fluid as possible. In the bedsheet he wasn't going to pull off any tinge of dignity. Snappy dresser or no, there was only so much one could do with that but a walk of shame. Better to lean into it. When a working girl offered to take them to the proprietor, he followed, having no cause to object. Along the way, he took in everything. Or tried. Much that would normally have been noted and filed bounced painfully around the bone sheathing his brain. As it was, mostly Viltre picked up impressions: of course lust, but opulence, good taste, safety, even pride swam through his senses. No desperation here, no real bitterness, just business.

All of that and more sat exemplified in the lovely woman who ran the house. If these were her social fingerprints, they told the young trader a good deal on the matter of her character. A short bow, both to the girl when she left and to their hostess. "If you'll forgive bluntness, Madame, I have no earthly idea." That smug glee was one he'd grown up aound. The Madame's expression could have been shaved off and pasted on his father's face without anyone the wiser. It meant that whoever it was aimed at was too amusing to take advantage of. " ...Wait. Nao? Naosei?"

The smirk deepened across painted lips. "Yes, I thought so. Vulir's boy, aren't you? You look so much alike. It's Auntie to you, dear. I've kept your things, or those that weren't ruined, and your Janarim is over in my stable."
She raised a hand, the fan in it pointing to their weapons in the corner, hidden behind the door. The door shut behind them as their guide left.
"Let me tell you a story. The airsick son of an old friend and his muscle come to my house, go through an entire cask of mjod, proposition the coatrack, and I give them a room for the night, figuring to settle up in the morning when they're sobered up. On the way to the stairs, they encounter three former clients who don't understand 'no' and take exception to the uproar. These good guests threw them out onto the street, ignoring that they wound up half dressed in the process, and stumble up to their room. By the argument, moans and snoring, I didn't think it proper to disturb you children."

Young Kavensei made sure Variel was in his peripheral vision as the story came out. Had to keep an eye on her state. One improbable thing after another. Their gear back safe, the mistress here so amenable to troublemakers/-shooters, that oh-so familiar smugness. Frankly, it could be a disturbing smirk the first time you saw it. She'd learned it well, and 'Auntie'- Oh. Oh that makes sense. I suppose that means I should ask. "...I don't suppose I have any half-siblings I need to meet, do I Auntie Nao?"

The fan waved again, a little shake of her head following. The debt, and thus Variel, was addressed first. "Please, girl. You dealt with a threat to my girls before I had to take steps. The missing cleaning bill more than covers your stay for the next week at least, even if gratitude and old friendships didn't." The giggle that followed was masked by the closed fan. Viltre had been right on the money about manners, here: they weren't optional. Smirk deepened into a pleased smile with a tinkling laugh. "Good, young man, good! And no. I'm your aunt, silly, not your mother. If I had children, and they were related to you, they'd be cousins. Wouldn’t they?" The last was not a question.

Aaaand another few things to add to the pile of data to be sorted later. The tall earthling was not having an easy- Is it morning? No windows in the hallways, couldn't tell. He nodded, unwilling to challenge the unspoken threat. "As you say, Auntie. Would like to meet my cousins sometime, though. I'll ask for more detail on our tale later, if it's alright. Right now, my priorities are a little different." Right. Another look at his partner, and a quiet hint of a smile. His usual smiles didn't want to work right now; it would have to do. "We do actually have business here, I think, so we're grateful for your hospitality. Do have a few questions, to start. Mostly context, like where we are and what day it is?"

Viltre 10

The bordello's proprietor smiled enough for all three of them, warm and wry about the eyes. To her, these newcomers were... potential. New connections, perhaps, or else favors to cash in later, either with Kavensei the younger or elder, now. As well established as she was, M. Nao could always use more in various fields of security, and friendly faces made for some of the best, long-term. "As you may have noticed, our clientele is mostly Zenan or Sauti people. We're in Coeld, the trading hub, three days past the winter celebration. But I must know: what sort of business?" The thinking bit of his brain zoomed back onto the correct slice of present, the young Taleian shaking himself with a wince. So they'd only lost about two days time. Better than he'd feared. And if this woman knew what they were already... "Family matter. Tracking kidnappers and the girl they stole. Information on either takes priority, but we've been making connections along the way. She's been gone a while."

That warmth dimmed, and the older woman leaned forward in her seat, standing after a moment's scrutiny. She took a few steps towards the heavy curtains behind, lifting them to look out over the street behind them. Just a crack, so as not to hurt her guests' eyes. "I'm sorry to hear of it. I don't hold with the flesh traders myself, so I don't hear as much about that as some of my less scrupulous neighbors. Had a few girls come in when one of those houses go down, and it takes time to get them in any decent state after." A longer pause then, the slim shoulders of their hostess sagging a bit while she stared. When it came again, there was steel in her voice. "If you're running their suppliers down, I could see you earning substantial goodwill from this city.

And after," she said, turning back to her guests, "any thought to go into business against Vulir?" The man's son shook his head. "No. Prefer information and favors to goods, in that order. If half the stories Papa told me of you were real, a woman of your competence will understand." Madame Nao looked to Variel, warm from an unusual flattery. "Isn't he a nice boy. I think we have an understanding, then?" The tall red head nodded again. "We have. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lie down for a week. 'Til the world stops being made of hate. Variel?"

And if allowed, he'd head back to the room, side by side with his partner.