These words sounded like a toast and compliment, but on closer inspection, they carried a faint undercurrent of "I hope you make a wise choice, or else..."
Nearby, Marquis Butler, who had just stepped back a short distance, looked at Marcus with a surprised expression.
Has this guy drunk himself into a stupor? Doesn't he realize his words are barbed?
In someone else's Royal Capital, at the coronation feast of the opposing Emperor, speaking so indiscreetly... better not splash your blood on me when you die.
He silently and subtly retreated two more steps.
The other envoys also tactfully stepped back and distanced themselves.
Galos narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinizing the human Marquis before him with an inscrutable expression.
He did not raise his glass in return, but casually waved a claw to signal a nearby Dragon Descendant guard.
"Serve the wine."
He blandly uttered two words.
The guard immediately bowed in obedience and quickly retreated.
