>>5621977You blink, uncertain how to reply to that.
“I… Feel asss if I might know more of the Easst than you?” you eventually hazard, to fill the silence.
“I rather doubt it,” he says, pensively tenting his finegrs and leaning evr the desk.
“…What do you mean?” you ask, warily.
The guards are gone. The door is sealed. It is just the two of you.
“You could not even ATTEMPT to geographically pinpoint your origins, ‘Long Wang’. You must improve upon that, if THIS is how you plan to present yourself, in your human guise.”
No, you take it all back—paranoia was, indeed, the correct stance. You start to shift, ready for combat, but the Prince snorts derisively and waves at you to settle.
“Calm yourself, lizardman,” he says, confirming your suspicions. “If I planned to attack and end you, wouldn’t I have sent more than two guards? Would we be alone in this room together?”
You remain leaned forward, tense, ready to spring. You don’t speak for a time, waiting for HIM to explain himself. Eventually, frustrated, he does so.
“I did NOT do this for the same reason I will NOT be meeting with your demonic associate, nested within poor, stupid Yosef.”
This time, YOU break the lengthy silence which follows.
“…Why do you think I am a ‘lizardman’?”
“I know you are BECAUSE you travel with my… With the demon.”
The Prince fidgets a little when he mentions Yosef and Irinnile, you note. He is sweaty, pallid. Does the proximity of your demonic assistant—infused with the essence and the power of the incubus she consumed—irritate or otherwise affect this Prince of Hawksong, once bound by the pair of hellspawn?
“I recognize your kind,” Rufos continues, bitterly. “I have been befuddled by your folk once. Never a second time. And the demon… It has played with me long enough. I was freed, likely in tandem with whatever conflict you engaged in to break and tame the beast.”
“You’re welcome,” you say, a little smugly.
“Yes, well, forgive me if I don’t gush with gratitude, given that the air of you arrived here to reconquer my mind,” he says, glaring.
You meet his gaze levelly, saying nothing, mind racing.
