Tycondrius narrowed his eyes beneath his helmet. Tanamar was poised to strike... looking as threatening as a half-dead man could look.
The footman was suffering a temporary bout of insanity from recent events. Tanamar had expended a great deal of mana in what Tycon assumed was a clumsy shouting match with his evil twin brother. That compounded with the fact that his girlfriend was in a near-death state.
The most mature response was to advocate peaceable discussion... to elucidate the young man on the flaws in his decision-making.
It was true that he was openly challenged. It was insulting to have a deadly weapon pointed at his face.
Still... logic trumped emotion and Tycon prided himself on being a man of high ideals.
"Athanasius, you're delirious from mana-fatigue," He impatiently patted the blade on his waist... "As you are a danger not only to--"
Tanamar blinked.
How. Dare. He.
