12-24-2020, 02:22 AM
A measure of patience held him from intruding into Aleksandrova’s office. Privacy notwithstanding, technically the whole wing was his to enter at will. Nothing occurred within these walls that the Ascendancy may not be privy to should he desire the inclusion. Rather, respect for his Consul stayed his feet awaiting an answer. It was a vaguely familiar face that pulled his attention aside. She was an unexpected brush of fresh air, something that stirred the stagnant edges of this seemingly unchanging wing.
His expression was polite and accepting of the information. In fact, he wasn’t even disappointed. He could kill two birds with one stone by encountering both Consuls simultaneously, wherever they were.
The woman that addressed him was familiar in a way that suggested a brief encounter passed his desk at some point. Ultimately, the Ascendancy approved new hires to the Executive Offices, although they were almost always a rubber stamp, having gone through the most rigorous of selection processes, down to the janitorial staff. By the time they reached his attention, little guessed what characteristics that he deemed worthy or unworthy to join their exclusive team.
“Thank you, Noémi,” he said with a slim smile. The sort that paused for a moment to see if she would be taken by surprise for his familiarity. In the eyes of the staff, he might have been a god. He seemed to know everything.
“It is Noémi? Did I pronounce it correctly?” He asked despite being confident that the syllables were pure. He never mastered the French language. He struggled enough with Italian and he lived there for – all of a few months. Greek would have been preferable. It was with a gesture of humor that he offered a hand by means of introduction, “Nikolai Brandon,” he said, though none present would dare use his name so informally.
His expression was polite and accepting of the information. In fact, he wasn’t even disappointed. He could kill two birds with one stone by encountering both Consuls simultaneously, wherever they were.
The woman that addressed him was familiar in a way that suggested a brief encounter passed his desk at some point. Ultimately, the Ascendancy approved new hires to the Executive Offices, although they were almost always a rubber stamp, having gone through the most rigorous of selection processes, down to the janitorial staff. By the time they reached his attention, little guessed what characteristics that he deemed worthy or unworthy to join their exclusive team.
“Thank you, Noémi,” he said with a slim smile. The sort that paused for a moment to see if she would be taken by surprise for his familiarity. In the eyes of the staff, he might have been a god. He seemed to know everything.
“It is Noémi? Did I pronounce it correctly?” He asked despite being confident that the syllables were pure. He never mastered the French language. He struggled enough with Italian and he lived there for – all of a few months. Greek would have been preferable. It was with a gesture of humor that he offered a hand by means of introduction, “Nikolai Brandon,” he said, though none present would dare use his name so informally.