"Our Conquest!" Xurha roared, the bridge shaking as he stomped over to Xerev and picked him by his throat. One of his enormous hands clutched Xerev around the throat, his red eyes shining in the dark gloom of the bridge.
"You measly little flea! How dare you! This is my conquest! Mine!" Xurha slapped Xerev across the face, his already swollen and bruised face beginning to bleed as the blow split his lip open.
Xerev remained silent, tears of pain filling his eyes, he didn't dare to even apologize, he knew that Xurha could end him with the slightest gesture, and the fact that he was still alive was the fact that, despite his extreme rage, Xurha was still in control of himself.
Xerev had seen too many mouthy officials end up as a smear on the wall of the throne room to risk worsening Xurha's rage.
