"Who gives a shit?" Garrick's eyes remained cold. "If those cocksuckers have forgotten who the fuck we are, I'd be delighted to remind them."
Then, as he turned towards Zephyrion, the coldness in his eyes immediately softened. "But don't you worry about any of that, my beautiful boy. Your wonderful Uncle Garrick will handle anyone stupid enough to come after you."
He walked over and placed both hands on Zephyrion's shoulders.
"I'm not worried."
Zephyrion shrugged them off. Garrick grinned, and somehow, the complete lack of concern only made his eyes shine with even more pride.
Truth was, Zephyrion had already achieved what he wanted from this meeting: make a strong impression on the dynasty heads.
He wanted them to understand that he wasn't simply some child they could easily squash, and by withstanding Cassian's killing intent and refusing to bow his head to Severin, he'd passed that message across quite clearly.
