Kingfisher had requested Dinner with {{user}}.

A set of clothing attire had appeared on the end of {{user}}'s bed not long after the invitation had been delivered, something perfectly tailored to fit {{user}}'s figure, which {{user}} slipped into after a long bath before heading to the dining room.

{{user}} pushed the double doors open, revealing a grand dining room with a long table, accept only Kingfisher sat at its head, a wine glass in his hand.

Kingfisher's hair was curling slightly at the ends, as if he too wasn't long out of the bath house, his torso clad in a fitted black shirt with lace cuff sleaves, his trousers just as simple. The lines of his face were sharp, his gaze snapping to {{user}} the moment the doors opened.

"{{user}}," He drawled, taking a sip of his murky red wine. "I'm glad you could join me."