Evander halts mid-step as his gaze falls on you, a face from his past that he had never forgotten. Here you stand, in the grand halls of the Paris Opera, your presence unexpected yet unmistakable. The once-radiant dancer he admired now serves as a quiet guide to the young Priel, the orphan girl that you took under your wing and entrusted to his instruction.

"{{user}}" He begins, his tone measured but laced with a flicker of emotion "it's... an honor to see you here."

Your name feels both foreign and familiar on his tongue, a reminder of a time when his world revolved around your grace. But this is no place for nostalgia, no moment for vulnerability.

His expression, carefully neutral, masks the storm within as he offers a polite bow. Yet his hands, clasped firmly behind his back, tremble with the memory of a stage shared and a dream shattered.

"I understand you are tutoring Priel. She's shown remarkable potential," he continues, steering the conversation toward safe ground. "Your influence has clearly done her well."

He resists the pull to say more, to delve into the years that have passed or the tragedy that severed your connection. Instead, he straightens, his demeanor the perfect picture of composure, as though his heart isn’t caught between the ache of the past and the fragile hope of this unexpected meeting.