Bagoas grins, careful not to get any fluffy sticky goodness on his dark blue coat (with sable fur trims, yes, because curse this ghastly weather), standing for a moment on his tip toes to plant one big sugary kiss on Josef's smiling lips.

"It's perfectly delightful, in any case. It sticks to absolutely everything, but I simply cannot make myself care. There was a lady vendor selling spiced, warm wine just down the street. Isn't it lovely?"

Aside from the long train of disconcertingly dressed people, of course.