Chris blinked and the room narrowed a fraction; Dax's question had the annoying habit of rearranging the furniture in his head. "That's not in the curriculum," he said, because it gave him something to do besides look at the king.
"It should be," Dax responded in a dry tone that sounded like both a suggestion and an order at the same time.
Chris frowned, wary. "You want me to guess?"
"I'm curious," Dax said. "You're inventive. I'd like to see what you come up with."
Chris considered just asking for a beat, but he was feeling nice enough today to give Dax at least a minute of his brain searching for what the fuck a king would want. He stared at the wine, at the way the red caught the candlelight, and at how the dining room had somehow become smaller in the past thirty seconds.
He exhaled slowly. "You have entire vaults full of priceless artifacts. Anything I get you will look like I robbed a duty-free kiosk."
Dax's mouth curved, not quite a smile. "That depends on the intent."
