Quinlan was already back in the stronghold when the echo of the call truly wore off.
Seraphiel stood under Rosie's brilliant tree with her arms folded. She looked at him without blinking.
"I cannot believe you were flirting," she said flatly, "with the woman who sent me to die."
Quinlan paused his next step halfway. "I was being polite. Calling the elven queen, known across the realms for her otherworldly beauty, beautiful is just a basic mannerism for a gentleman such as I."
The explanation didn't land. His gorgeous elf scoffed, turned her head, and stared very intently at the trunk of the fairy tale tree. "I am mad now."
The declaration came with all the severity of a girlfriend announcing a lifelong grudge. Her fingers curled tighter around her sleeve. Her foot tapped once, then again.
From nearby, Sylvaris cleared her throat.
"Prodigious Son," she said, tone immaculate and disapproving, "I disapprove."
