In that good long minute, the man who seems to be Dylan Reinhart takes another sip of tea, outwardly nonchalant but eagerly curious about what Ganymede has to say. And when he does begin to describe him, a little bit of that polished veneer not so much cracks but dissolves away with a pleasantly surprised flutter of dark eyelashes and a soft dimpling of cheeks.

"Impressive," he says, raising his teacup in a salute. "That's quite astute of you. Especially the part about the danger thing. I'm ex-CIA, actually." He waggles his eyebrows in a playful gesture as he turns back to his soup. "I mean, it's not really a secret, but it's not something I talk about in great detail."