"But then an unknown nobody had to walk out of the woods and start eating the board I worked hard to set up."
Quinlan grinned at the old king, and the grin held no remorse whatsoever.
"My sincerest apologies."
"Your apologies are worth less than the oaths my dukes take, you infuriating bastard," Alexios grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched toward a shape he'd rather die than call a smile.
He composed himself, straightening, and swept the moonlit room with practiced calm. "I must say, you've shown remarkable restraint regarding Black Fang's claim on the elder."
His attention drifted to the ice casing where Hozumi's thrashing kept up with admirable determination despite the magma pulsing through the frost in slow, cruel rhythms.
"But what about mine?"
Quinlan tilted his head, not understanding. "What about him?"
"..." Alexios looked at him for a long second.
Then he sighed. "It's fine. Just make sure he's recognizable."
