Cesare shrugs as he swirls about the liquor in his glass.

"We have a new leader. Rules have changed. It seems you don't even need to bother with self-control nowadays."

He looks to Thomas. "Any regulations here, I'm afraid, are merely mine in a desperate attempt to keep things clean." He gives a slightly apologetic look, as if to say sorry for spoiling Thomas' fun, before smirking and holding out a hand.

"Cesare Borgia, Earl of Angel and prodigal son." He grins. "I left London to fend for itself for a while. Tell me: how has it been doing?"