Azel managed to let out a small sigh as he leaned away from the table that creaked at the movement with his weight no longer pressing down on it. He made his way to a cushioned chair and slumped into it.
All the while, Fabian watched him cautiously, gauging him and waiting for the tension to ease before he could speak.
He raised an eyebrow. "Milord?"
Azel was forced to look up at him through the strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes without lifting his head. "What?"
His aide huffed, a little of it from relief. "You seem to have calmed down a bit," he said plainly. "I was expecting you to completely ignore me."
Azel ran a frustrated hand through his hair, pushing the loose strands back. "I probably should have."
Fabian had a knack to start laying complaints as soon as he sensed a more comfortable atmosphere, and that was the last thing Azel wanted right now—the man's incessant nagging.
