[ Walking at his side was a man who looked so heart-renchingly similar to his husband. Of course he would be similar-- this was his soul and his core self; this man whom had come back but with no memories. A way to do it all over again, this life-- and perhaps do it right this time. It was hard to resist taking the hand in his own as they walked-- and the purple looked so right on Bren, like it suited him.

Down the hallway, Essek led Bren with a careful solemnity; they walked passed rooms and doors, nearly closely the sanctuary of a book-lover's retreat. ]

Have my staff been treating you well, Bren? Have you eaten dinner yet?

[ although Essek was casual and felt underdressed in the moment, he was certainly not going to deny that Bren's more fancy clothing had him feeling a certain way, like he could've easily pulled those garments off and not lost a single beat. The only think missing? A scarf. ]

If you are hungry, I can have something sent up to the library for you.

[ normally not the best guest but Bren's presence brought him into the sheer art of wanting to be a good host for Bren, to make sure that he enjoyed the indulgences that his household could rightly afford. Essek would not curtail the other man's own explorations.

A pause at the double doors leaning into the library, with his hand on the ornate filagreed handle ]

Remmeber that this library is a disorganized mess, if you run away screaming-- I shall not blame you.