Goodnight gave him a weary look. "I'm trying to work in a system, here. It's not a good one - it's ridiculous, even - but it's what there is." He kept his voice down as they walked; he fixed a few people with a look on their way to the stairs. The door to their room was open, a maid just preparing to leave.

He broke into a bright, charming smile.

"Merci mon cher. Je ne peux pas penser à une vue plus belle," he crooned, sending the poor girl into a fit of blushes on her way out the door. The thing to provoke his praise? A tub of steaming hot water on the far end of the room.