[Paolo waits and waits for the raise in both pitch and shoulders, for a spiel about the man's status and a steady decline in whatever favor he's garnered in whatever field he's in since more power came to the people Paolo cared for more. He waits to be at his wits end, in which he will probably call a guard or escort the man out in his own, messier fashion. He waits. He's left waiting. He's left... perplexed.

Paolo simply drops his hand into his lap, glancing between his tie and back to Jindosh's face. Tie, face. Face, tie. He does not adjust it, but he sits up under his critical gaze, and leans forward Jindosh stands, gaze following him as he walks to the clockwork. His fingers curl in with hesitance, and he clears his throat.]

I uh... wouldn't touch... [He starts, watching a hat soar across the room and land on his desk lamp. He awkwardly leans to adjust it, like it was always his intentions for his furniture to be fashionable.] ... So you're important enough for it not to make you a shish kabob, eh? Guess I gotta give a shit.