For a moment Charles thought he saw something mocking in Leanis' smile, but it was probably just a trick of the light. Privately, he felt very relieved that few people actually knew about the incident. Particularly the fact that he'd been the chief mourner at Quincy's funeral in 1898.
The demon raised his eyebrows, it certainly sounded serious. "Balance. Huh. Sometimes I think shaking things up a bit would be a good idea, but I've been out of things for too long to know whether or not this demon friend of yours has any sense. I doubt it, young demons are always so... excitable." There was a pause, where Charles seemed to be considering something. He looked down and suddenly seemed to find the bottom of his teacup incredibly fascinating. As he spoke, he didn't lift his gaze. "I might regret this, Leanis. But, if you need help, with this. If it really is going to cause problems for demons as well... Head over to Jawan, ask one of the locals about where to find Marlowe-May, they all know her. She's one of you, and if anyone can help you, she can." There was another pause, and Charles looked up suddenly.
"...I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone I just said this. My reputation isn't exactly brilliant at the moment, you understand. This... would ruin me entirely." He just hoped that had been the right thing to say. He was going to regret this he knew it, he knew it.