Hannibal took the hand of Pamela Ravenscroft and bent over it in a long lost action. He did not press his lips to her hand, but hovered just above it, as was the polite thing to do when one was just newly making the acquaintance of a woman. His eyes stayed on hers as he did this, and then stood up straight once more.
"Lovely to meet you, Pamela." Hannibal smiled when she said she knew his younger self. "Ah, yes. No, he is not my son. We are the same man, made different by the circumstance of him being brought here. We've spoken much, he and I. I find him quite intriguing. He's made an incredible name for himself in this place. I'm honored to meet one of his friends."
Hannibal tilted his head, taking her in, his smile still in place. "I have to say, I love your look. Very well done, very suiting for your complexion. You either have a stylist, or you've had much practice. Either way, your eye for style is impeccable."