It was true that the papers amassed on the table were utterly benign—nothing more than rough proposals for Bards Guild events and petitions for new projects. Nothing that one wouldn't expect to see for a man in his line of work, but that didn't mean they didn't still number in an extraordinary proportions. The paperwork for a job like this, Mathieu had learned early on, was practically never-ending.
But so he had pledged himself to this guild for good or ill, and all of its duties and members as well. Such as this one here and his simple, black coffee. "Wouldn't ever dream of it," he said with a mischievous smile. "This lovely city of ours has found enough trouble of late, and She doesn't deserve me adding to Her woes with a fiery fit!"
Mathieu tapped his pen on the tabletop playfully, his eyes roaming to another of the wait staff that had finally brought around one of his food platters. Fresh rolls, fruit, and other delectable-looking foodstuffs were put on display, and the councilman gestured a hand toward them. "Help yourself, Mr. Wilde," he said, "sit and stay and tell me of your woes."