"Good day, Your Grace! I hope I'm not interrupting any brooding or high-level plotting!"
Cherion didn't wait for an invitation. He practically bounced into the room, the door swinging wide behind him as he marched in with a level of confidence that was, quite frankly, bordering on suicidal. He had just finished his grueling marathon tour of the castle, and after bumping into Flio and Elios in the hallway, he'd managed to wiggle his way into an audience.
Zarius sat on his sofa, looking like he'd been carved out of the very stone of the North, pale, sharp, and exhausted. He blinked at the intrusion, his hand hovering near his teacup. "You... certainly have a high volume for a guest," Zarius remarked, his voice like gravel. "I was told you had something to discuss?"
"Not something, but three things, actually."
"That is quite a lot."
Cherion grinned. "I like to be efficient."
