Kirian doesn't glance away when Rynlan look at him, he simply closes his eyes, shrugging a shoulder, and looking down to his cup.

"I don't care to give you the wrong impression- that I'm a frivolous man. I simply like to have nice things, where I can. Magic, fortunately, costs me nothing."

He raises a long, curled brow at the shadowy tendrils. When he first encountered Rynlan, he had thought they were just show, but shadow magic was nothing he was very familiar with. It wasn't fel magic, but, then again, it wasn't the familiar arcane, either. His first instinct was to consider it dangerous.

It reminded him, truthfully, of Catsovi. Of having his own body forced against him. Briefly, yes, but the idea of not having even that shred of control frightened him.

And he didn't know Rynlan enough to trust him. He enjoyed his company, but he couldn't trust him yet.