"I don't think you know much about my love life, really."
A Mage Hand appeared in the air next to him, made of shimmering gold dust, and went about the process of drawing up Gilmore's luscious, dark hair and fixing it back with a series of jeweled pins until it was the fantasy equivalent of an extravagant man-bun. The sorcerer held up a hand mirror for brief inspection, then dismissed the conjuration with a wave.
"Would you like anything to drink? I fancy tea, myself, though I have been introduced to this exquisite beverage that the locals refer to as 'espresso.' A bean byproduct. Divine."
While he spoke, Gilmore moved to his desk and lifted the lid on what appeared to be an ornate incense burner. Tendrils of iridescent purple smoke curled out of it, quickly coalescing on the ground in the shape of a translucent cat. It looked up at Gilmore with big, empty eyes.
"I'll take an espresso, thank you," he ordered with a nod, before extending his hand to the costumed half-elf, "and whatever our friend would like. Now, Vax'ildan, I'm rather interested to hear about the goings-on since I've been away. One year, as you say, compared to my five here. Still, a year in Exandria--" the robed sorcerer sank down into a chaise, the picture of which was decadent and indulgent as he stretched out over it, "is rife with all sorts of excitement. Particularly for a group of friends such as yours."
After he'd posed the question, Gilmore let his bearded chin come to rest on his left hand, which was in turn propped up upon the chaise's headboard. His dark eyes watched Vax, his face entirely too difficult to read.