The heavy silence that followed Zarius's sudden, territorial display didn't seem to faze Gillian in the slightest. While the surrounding took a collective step back, sensing the danger radiating from the Northern Duke, Gillian simply rested a hand on his hip. He looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Well," Gillian commented, his voice casual as he looked Zarius up and down, completely unfazed by the fact that he was currently being glared at by a man who could snap his collarbone with one hand. "Someone is exceptionally harsh this morning. What happened, Your Grace? Did you sleep on the hard floor last night to be in such a foul mood, or has this place finally worn out your patience?"
Zarius didn't move an inch. His shoulder remained a solid wall between Gillian and Cherion, making it clear no one was getting past him. The low rumble in his chest hadn't entirely faded, vibrating through the quiet room like distant thunder.
