Rook raised an eyebrow very slightly at Hanna, and his tongue twitched. Fortunately, he knew the sensible way to put words around that. How much trouble would he have been in if he had still been fresh from the Hedge, barely in control of his enchanted flesh?
"Yes. I wear them because I have an eye problem," he said, with quiet honesty. "Please don't draw attention to it." Because there are mortals here, and none of them need to see a man with a broken Mask. The Constable of Calefaction, and the Freehold's favourite pianist scanned the two newcomers beneath the mirrored lenses.
Hm.
"I'm Rook," he introduced himself quietly. "Welcome to the Four Seasons. Is there someone in particular you're looking for Ryann, Benson?" He used first names for two reasons. One, it was simple, and two, it drew attention away from his own strange name, insofar as was possible.
Enforced honesty was a bitch.