"It is happening all day. If I am suitably impressed? At the end I deliver the prizes to those that earned them." And Cyril could certainly earn one depending on what it is he means to do. Zevran took Cyril's free hand, the one not touching his shirt, and tugged it close to kiss the back of his hand. Under Cyril's fingers he would find that there was a subtle pattern, a raised stitching in the shirt. "I'm certain we can have that arranged. What would you need, Tresoro?"