Enver's bath is attached to the chamber but mostly cut off. He drew some water almost as soon as he came in, not yet ready to sleep but in no mind to see to any business while there was so much of the evening to wash off of himself. Masks came off at midnight, with some surprises and delights as the energy wound down. But from there, the evening's business had closed and it was not long before he had been able to make his own exit, leaving the rest for the planners and workers to wind down, with some tasks for cleanup left for the following morning.

He emerges now, clad in a silken bathrobe of black and gold, and little else. Hair slightly damp and drying against his scalp, feathers of it once freed from the weight of water already beginning to take shape. He had tendered an invitation, but there was no expectation that it would be answered, given the late hour and the fact that there had been no set time for these kinds of encounters yet.

He stops short, the candleabra he has in hand casting a soft orange glow across the shadows, curves and lines of an only partially-concealed body. There are a few other sources in the room, candles, torches, the fireplace, enough that if he had intended to read until he tired enough to sleep at last, it would have been achievable.

It was enough to see that he was not alone, and while there was the immediate impulse to lecture about being careful with his papers, or to launch right into why that little detour at the party had been a dangerous gamble? The beginnings of a fond smile begin to form, as well as a greater awareness of how little stood between his skin and the cool night air.

"Having fun, are we?"