"Ah, do pardon me for my thoughtlessness. I ought not to have soured such fine hospitality with talk of restless borders. Let us return our minds to this beautiful lunch and leave the frontier squabbles for another day."
"No, Your Majesty, the fault is mine," Gillian interjected quickly. "I brought it up in the first place. I should have read the room better before speaking of territorial disputes."
Zarius sat quietly beside Cherion, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharply observing every tiny shift in the room. He watched Cherion take another sip from the goblet before setting it back down and wiping his lips with a linen napkin.
The South, Zarius thought. A muscle in his jaw twitched, gone as quickly as it came.
