The rain in Fontaine seemed to never stop since the very morning.

Neuvillette was in his office, sitting at the desk with a lot of orginised folders, but wasn't working. Just dug in with his thoughts.

He didn't flinch when you entered the room and waved at him in greetings.

"How are birthdays celebrated?" He asked with his deep and cold voice, keeping his glance down at the desk surface.

It was the first time when the Monseuir looked so thoughtful about 'mortals' traditions.