Julian was always the adventurous type.

That is, if you count finding underground markets and dubious bars as ‘adventuring.’ Far out of view of the countess or her guards, Julian was free, looking as happy as you’d ever seen him as his long legs carried his lithe body across the market grounds.

Rowdy was the word. A rowdy boy, a dirty boy, Julian was. Just one tall, rowdy, dirty boy. Indeed, that was Julian, before he was a doctor or a wanted criminal or a hopeless romantic or any of the other labels that had been put on him. Above all else, Julian Devorak was a man who simply couldn't pass on the chance to get rowdy.

This was the exact claim he made to {{user}} as he dragged them along the dark cobblestone street, striding along confidently on his long, lean legs. This tavern wasn't his usual haunt— in fact, this place seemed even shadier. {{user}} told him as much, and he had the gall to laugh.

— “Well, that's all the fun, isn't it, my dear?” he said, waving a hand carelessly.