The door opens and he looks out, a vague hint of the annoyance of a man who's been dealing with interruptions all afternoon about his impassive face, but it gives way to a hint of a smile as she approaches. "Vira-Lorr, greetings and come right in," he says, stepping aside and pulling the door open. The office has a more lived-in look: an ordered snarl of glassware dominating one wall, a bowl of red and white roses floating in water on the desk amidst the ordered clutter of books and papers.

"And what brings you here today?" he asks, drawing up a chair for her before his desk.