Sexual desire was not an emotion Kennet tended to have. He was not some demon or lower being who lusted after things, yet the heavy-handed black and gold liner reminded him of a time long before the Cirque when men still trembled before powerful supernaturals and the depth of magic and ritual still reigned over the lands. It led the Djinn’s mind toward the taste of magic he pulled from lower beings into himself.
"If you believe that any one of the witches involved did it for any other reason than to not have their own fun ruined by the previous night’s findings." Kennet knew the hearts of each better than to believe the ritual had been done for the others. It would not last long enough to lessen the issues the humans would have.
Kennet tilted his head and raised his brows at her comment. "I do not sit when it is unnecessary to do so. Others I know will leave in a timely fashion." The smallest smile tugged at his lips. "I know better than to expect such with you." While he set the glass in front of him he did not drink.