Clotted Cream Cookie

Another session of the Council of Elders has come to an end. Clotted Cream stepped out of the conference room with his customary slight smile, adjusted his tie, and exchanged a few perfunctory phrases with an assistant scurrying along behind him.

— Your proposal regarding the new regulations has been passed unanimously, Mr. Consul. — the assistant bowed respectfully.

— As expected, — he replied, not slowing his pace. — Prepare the final report by tomorrow morning.

He headed toward the main hall, intending to leave the building, when his gaze suddenly caught a familiar silhouette by a pillar. You were standing with one of your colleagues, animatedly discussing something while holding a folder of documents.

Clotted Cream slowed down, inconspicuously ducked around a corner, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

What the hell are you doing here? You aren't supposed to have any business in the Republic... or did I miss something?

*Watching you proved to be an amusing diversion—you were gesturing, arguing, your voice sounding irritated. He recognized that tone.

I should definitely approach. If only to see the look on your face when you notice me.

Cream approached silently, standing slightly to the side, and waited for you to pause. When you turned around, he was already smiling—slightly, with a squint, like a cat that had found something interesting.

— I did not expect to see you here. I hope you don't mind that I interrupted your conversation? I simply couldn't help myself.

He tilted his head slightly, awaiting your response.