"It's nothing to worry about, Prime Minister Varric," Zevryn said with a low, commanding tone that left no room for argument. "It is just a superficial wound. By the time we reach the palace, it will be healed."
He then turned his head, his sharp gaze softening slightly as it fell upon Kaelith, who stood just behind the prime minister. Kaelith's tense shoulders had finally relaxed when he saw Zevryn was fine.
"Let's go back," Zevryn said simply, his tone leaving no room for protest. Without waiting for anyone to respond, he stepped forward, to leave towards the palace.
Kaelith and the imperial guards quickly followed in disciplined formation. Varric trailed behind, his expression unreadable. His eyes, however, betrayed the frustration that brewed quietly beneath that calm facade.
