Dax's brows rose higher at that, his violet gaze sharpening with interest, the faintest smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth as the music and laughter carried on obliviously around them.
"Do you mean poisoned?" he repeated softly, the words slipping from his tongue with the laziness of a man in control. His was curiosity, cold and cutting, the kind of curiosity that made lesser men confess without being asked twice.
Christopher straightened from his bow, heart hammering against his ribs but his voice was steady, far steadier than he felt. "I mean that someone attempted to insult Your Majesty's table." His black eyes flicked briefly to the glass still in the attendant's hand, then back to Dax. "And that such an insult does not belong in this hall."
