Zayden stood before Soren with his arms folded across his chest, impatience written plainly on his face.
"Are you mad?" Soren asked.
Zayden did not answer at once.
Meanwhile, Soren remained seated behind his desk, fingers resting lightly atop a stack of documents, expression unreadable.
"Should I not be?" Zayden said at last. "You decided to marry that man—"
"Zayden." Soren's voice cut through him, calm but firm. He lifted his gaze, eyes sharp with authority the other man had rarely seen. "He will be my consort soon. Give him the respect he deserves."
Zayden clicked his tongue and turned away, rolling his eyes.
"Fine," he muttered. Then, he added, "Then tell me. Why did you summon me?"
He didn't voice the rest of his thoughts—the irritation still burning in his chest at being dragged away from Ren—but it lingered between them all the same.
Soren exhaled slowly, as if choosing his next words with care.
"Because this is no longer something I can afford to ignore."
