Soft & Luxurious Goal
The owner of the estate seemed to think himself a noble in the style of the Kingdom.
Tycondrius was being led to his guest room by a maidservant, her attire traditional to that region.
She refused to meet his gaze, something also dictated by Kingdom tradition.
She said no more than what was necessary, which he found rather droll. He was able to forgive that, though-- it was consistent with 'tradition.'
However, when that whelpling offered an overly enthusiastic 'is there anything else, my lord'... Tycon began to doubt.
--mostly because of the thick, expressly *non-traditional*, cloud of pheremones enshrouding her.
"Have someone wake me for dinner," Tycon waved dismissively. "Tell me where your master entertains his guests."
"Of course, my lord," The servant smiled.
It was a subtle motion, but Tycon noticed the girl straighten her back with pride. Her eyes continued to wander, though-- and, subtle, that was not.