She pressed her forehead to the floor at once. That was it, wasn't it? No matter what he was becoming, no matter the changes or the threats he held the seven boys with... to her, Phei was still an insect that would end even from her aura alone.
Much less her master.
An insect indeed, pausing as a dragon.
"I spoke out of turn. I beg forgiveness."
Another laugh, warmer this time. Almost fond.
"Your dramatics never fail to amuse me."
Silence returned.
Heavier now. Thoughtful. The silence of someone running calculations too complex for lesser minds, seeing patterns in chaos, finding threads in darkness. Consort couldn't fathom what he was thinking at all despite having served this same person for centuries.
Then: "Don't worry."
The Consort didn't move. Didn't breathe.
"Phei is going to bring himself right here."
She lifted her head a fraction—just enough to show confusion flickering across features that were usually carved from ice. "How, my lord?"
