His guys don't pay her much mind than a rowdy cheer of greeting. The booze is high price and free flowing and the Chargers' crew have never been ones to abstain. Bull feels more than sees the subtle shift of Krem moving to sit in his blindside. It gives him more than enough assurance to smile up at the beautiful woman, giving her the bulk of his focus.

"Ah, don't sweat it," Bull tells her, taking her hand carefully in his. He does his duty, a quick light kiss to her knuckles and a slight seated bow. He's not for titles, but he knows who he's talking to. "Emperor throws a hell of a party."