A gentleman stands; his clothes, perhaps, not the finest in the room–obviously intended to be good clothes, but obviously purchased with limited means. Yet something about him seems…smooth, immaculate, polished. A consummate socialite and orator. A charmer.
"Prisoner’s honey. An addict I knew from my time in the Veilgarden has kicked his habit, and he has warehouses of the stuff–nearly as much as it took for my reservation at the Royal Beth. I’ve been doing a little…exploring…with this new excess of his; publishing love stories. All perfectly legal and aboveboard, I assure you. I also hope to depart Fallen London soon…I intend to travel the world. But first, a toast.
To the worlds behind every mirror, every eyelid, every door and every page. To mysteries waiting to be solved. To secrets waiting to be discovered, horizons waiting to be charted, and wonders waiting to be harnessed. To Fallen London and environs. Deep, dark, marvelous!"