Unlike Boros' immediate affection, Osisi's greeting was measured.
"Your Grace," he said, bowing properly.
Ikenga smiled at the sight.
"You have changed since last we saw each other."
Osisi straightened, brushing his leafy beard with slow amusement.
"The world is changing," he replied, voice deep and textured like wood shifting in wind. "And this old man would like to be part of this change. Changes needed to happen."
Ikenga paused at that "Indeed," Ikenga nodded. "It is as you say."
Osisi shifted slightly before speaking again.
"The young master and his mistress visited earlier," he said. "But you were not present. He… had to leave. He is now a god and has duties to uphold."
The words landed heavier than Osisi likely intended.
Ikenga's expression stilled. For a brief moment, his gaze drifted past them both, distant and unfocused. Time passed in that silence.
His son had come and left. He nodded after a while.
