Absorbed in what he's working on - some of this won't be suitable, but he'll preserve the concepts for later use - Martel doesn't look at her until she touches the desk, his eyes tracking her hand and up her arm to finally meet her gaze and smile, thinly. In person, he's approximately a foot taller than she is and physically imposing in a way that's all the more pronounced for his bearing (hinting at a not unjustified arrogance), and while he's far from threatening right now, he couldn't be mistaken for harmless. Or safe.

He seems appropriate, considering.

"You require a binding, I'm told. I believe I can provide." He steps back from the desk, then, tapping his papers and rolling them up. "Sit. We need to discuss what precisely you want, first."