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Summary
“ Leave me alone, “ Barou’s tone is commanding, angry.
Isagi wouldn’t be a famed war General if the temper of his King was enough to frighten him ; he walks slowly with a leisurely pace and stations himself in front of the brooding man.
” Would that I could, You Grace, “ his tone is light, yet assured, like the kite who easily surfs the breeze on a sunny day. “ But the Mikage delegation is almost at the gates ; King Reo is expected to walk the halls of your castle in the hour that comes. It would be a shame if he found the King missing. “
Barou grunts, but says nothing ; Isagi is wise enough to suppress the smile that threatens to spill over his lips. He had learned long enough that poking enraged beasts with the point of your sword brought you nothing if not deserved scars and a lesson in humility.
The King stares at him some more, and his eyes grow hungry - another sort of gaze that was reserved for Isagi only.
” You clean up well, “ that was a compliment, in Barou’s own words. “ Come to me. “
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Isagi fetches his King.