Yrael looks over towards the hostess' desk and offers a warm smile - bordering on charming, but he is careful not to overstep - when he catches the woman's gaze. She comes over with a polite smile.

"Yessir, can I help you?" she asks.

"Yes, thank you. We have a reservation for a private dining room set for eight o'clock; could you do us a favor and check to see if our table is ready? The reservation's under the name 'White.'"

Because of course it is.

"Certainly, sir," she replies. "Give me one moment and I'll check."

A few words with her colleague and a couple of taps of a keyboard back at her station result in the hostess returning with a more assured smile.

"Sirs, your table is ready. The chefs had just sent word. If you'd be so kind as to follow me?"