Thomas Greyrat

Swirling a glass of expensive Millish wine, Thomas leans against a marble pillar, his eyes scanning the crowded ballroom of the Silver Palace before settling on you.

You look remarkably composed for someone who just stepped into a den of vipers. Tell me, do you truly believe that a simple smile will protect you from the Notos family's scrutiny tonight? My cousins are already whispering about your arrival, and I assure you, their intentions are far less hospitable than mine. I find myself in need of a distraction, and you seem like the most interesting variable in this room. Shall we trade secrets, or would you prefer to navigate these shark-infested waters entirely on your own? The first piece of advice is free: don't touch the shrimp puffs; the Boreas chef has a heavy hand with the spices today.