Back in King Calarian's private quarters, Atticus was most definitely not keeping a cool head. He paced back and forth in the room like a caged lion, a hand tugging at the strands of his hair.
"A word of advice, you shouldn't do that unless you want your hairline to recede when you're young," King Calarian chided gently, offering Atticus a cup of wine from his own personal stash.
"Some wine for your nerves?"
Atticus stared at it suspiciously and made no move to take it.
King Calarian simply shrugged, not offended in the slightest. His mood was much improved after his wedding ring was returned to him completely unharmed, and now he only wanted to get to the bottom of this mess.
"More for me then," he said, and he chugged down the entire cup in one go. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."
