"If they weren't that bad before I got to them, they certainly are now," Ravel said, grinning. In all fairness he hadn't done that poor of a job, despite having no training whatsoever as an accountant. Nowhere in his many job descriptions over the many long years had accounting come into the picture, but he had a fair, if somewhat basic, grasp of arithmetic.

The books might just be a little more... creative than when Anton had reluctantly handed them over. (Gaeilge footnotes, Klaus. Gaeilge footnotes.)

After the handshake he twisted in his spot on the desktop, pointed the first two fingers of his right hand at his mug of tea, and levitated it over to himself. He was just wrapping both hands around the mug again when Klaus asked about the Hotel.

"Mm? Oh no, the Hotel isn't originally from Keeliai." Ravel paused to take a sip of tea. "It's from our world. Anton built it just after the war, about... a hundred years ago, now?"