Corliss rolls her eyes. "And you believed that the Prince's favor afforded you the privilege of peace of mind? Have you any idea, Vizier, how many death threats I receive on a weekly basis?" Kashif shakes his head. "Enough that I no longer read them. My servants simply burn them and make note of their purported authors in a ledger."
Kashif seems taken aback, but that doesn't stop him from continuing. "When I confronted Lang about his clan members' insult—"
"You did what?" Corliss's eyes burn with anger.
"He insisted that my allegation was absurd and went on to suggest I had fabricated the letter in the first place!"
"And what did you expect?" Corliss hisses, reasserting control over the room. "After the Prince offered you protection, most Tremere left Ottawa in protest. Is it too much for your fragile ego to know that a single one remains? Does Lang's continued presence so stick in your craw, Vizier? When did your once-proud clan grow so fearful and petty?