And Vincent will indeed arrive, precisely five minutes ahead of schedule. He'd taken Kristoff's advice on how formal to dress for the occasion. A flawless suit, rather than any 'official' finery of Latveria. He inclines his head to Hans politely. "Keller."
Vincent's knowledge of his... coworker? Subject? No, not subject. That wasn't how things were going to be. He supposed he should think of Hans as his senior, but trying to express that verbally would bring up all manner of Latverian attitudes towards leaders and lines of ascendancy, and... ugh. He stuffs all that down into his mind like so munch worn laundry into a hamper. His knowledge of Hans was incomplete, but he trusted his brother's word on the man. He deserved courtesy, and the full measure of Vincent's responsibility (a measure he liked to think was greater than it had been in previous years).
"I hope I'm not leaving you at a loss with my relocation. Anything my station requires should still be asked of me. Distance is hardly a hindrance."
There, something friendly and professional. He can do this.
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