That smile was insincere. Martin isn't in a position to tell Nathaniel that, nor does he care to call him out for a pleasantry, as grating as they are.

Martin rises, tucking some papers into the dragon-plated, leather-bound grimoire, and putting a couple of notebooks on top of it. Once that's done, he picks up the stack. "There are two places where you're most likely to find him: a cafe outside the hold, and his room. We should probably check the cafe first." Martin purses his lips into an amused smile. "They allow cats inside."