H-037: Thickth Bar, The Lounge
Kamphet blinks slowly, does a little quirk of his lips.
He drains his own drink, snaps his fingers, raises his empty glass in the air for a few seconds, waits wordlessly; shortly a child arrives.
“Another for me. Get the Mer,” he indicates Lia with his eyes, “whatever she wants.”
The child turns to Lia, awaiting her order.
She will return his quirk of lips and without looking at the child, she says, “I’ll have another of these.” She taps her glass. “Tracy knows.”
She sits back, making herself comfortable. Not once does she break his eye contact.