Yazad wasted no time to follow Niccolette into the bookshop, after returning her barely-there motion. The door closed behind him with a soft chime. Once there, the lulling warmth made Yazad exhale a relieved breath, the man feeling his fingertips almost tingling pleasantly with the increased temperature. The bookshop’s interior was hardly the most sumptuous that he had seen, but also well far away from being the blandest. The stylish green curtains were especially lovely, and a touch that the owner is to be complimented for. The bookshelves were a sight that reminded him of Sophronios’ study at home, only these books proved far more successful at drawing his interest. At least two book covers that he could spot mentioned something about Hesse, and that alone was enough to warrant Yazad’s attention, though he made no attempt to move and examine the books up close.
While Yazad lingered behind to -internally- assess the decor and attempt to read words from a distance, Niccolette went ahead with the bearings of someone who had been here before enough times to not look at anything and know where they were going. A voice, unfamiliar and yet not unwelcoming, called her by name, solidifying the passive’s assumption that Niccolette was a frequent patron, and effectively redirecting his gaze to the person who was standing behind the counter. With amusement mostly aimed at himself, Yazad smiled at how the man instantly brought Aurelie to mind. It was the vibrant if gradually fading color of his hair, no doubt.
Standing a few paces behind Niccolette--close enough to hear her and the man she had called Mr. Quintrell but far enough to not be a nuisance, the raven-haired man assumed his standard pose when in the company of those he knew were his social superiors. Back held straight, eyes looking ahead, and hands folded neatly over his midsection. Pleasantries of greeting were exchanged, briefly, and much to his further amusement, they included him as well. "A good day to you, sir." Yazad responded with ease, bowing gracefully at the waist before straightening and giving the older man a polite smile. "I am merely here to accompany the good madam, although I could not help but notice that a few of the books here mention Hesse." Poor as he was at pretense, the passive’s interest was hardly difficult to miss. It tended to twinkle in his pale green eyes, somewhere behind the polite exterior and the conditional reservation.
"Do you happen to carry anything in regards to Hessean dancing? Or a Hessean cookery book, perhaps?"
The coins he carried in his pocketbook were meant for flowers when he had left the house this morning, but that was not meant to be. Still, he might be able to spend them on an equally worthy purchase if he can get his hands on something relating to that distant, nostalgic part of his life.