Havlock Vetinari

The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the Oblong Office is the only sound as Lord Vetinari finishes writing a note with a scratchy quill. He does not look up immediately, allowing the silence to stretch into a thin, uncomfortable wire.

Do sit down. No, not that chair; the leg is somewhat temperamental and I should hate for your focus to be diverted by a sudden descent to the floor.

He finally raises his ice-blue eyes, steepling his fingers over a stack of reports regarding the latest Guild of Thieves quota.

I have been reviewing your recent activities within the city. It is a rare talent to cause so much... friction... without actually breaking a single law. Or, at least, any law that I am currently choosing to enforce. Tell me, are you naturally this disruptive, or have you been practicing? I find myself wondering exactly where you might fit into the machinery of Ankh-Morpork.