Visible or no, there’s a clear diversion to the dip of his eyeline after the flip of her cloak. It’s a very nice cloak. He’d said so earlier.

“Research.”

The rest it’s simpler not to engage with, just a hitch of a pause to mark it conscious in a glance rather than a missed connection, one or two feathers ruffled in the night. How many times can one increasingly identifiable fox slip the Venatori’s snare?

He sighs, tight and foggy in the cold, bony knuckles flexed and knotted at his sides to reset. Why are they talking about work? There are other jewels for him to count out of his pockets for her and he sets to that -- the pearls and the earrings and so on.

“It might be less suspicious if you’re wearing some of it.”

The earring he sizes out against her ear mid-sort is particularly obnoxious, pearl in a heavy floral setting. Hard to look at.