Fabian could only let out a sigh in response to the question, dropping the documents he had appeared with onto the nearest table.
"What information are you asking for?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "Is it about the business we came for, or the one that you got so unceremoniously distracted by?"
Azel clenched his jaw tightly. "I'm not in a good mood, Fabian," he muttered, without turning to look at him. "You know what I'm asking; just get to it."
"Oh, pardon me," Fabian replied glibly, idly adjusting his black gloves. "It's somewhat challenging to discern your mood when you usually wear a smile through anything. But I suppose today's exception is quite obvious."
Azel turned to his aide sharply, his golden eyes frosty and unwelcoming. "Get. straight. to. the. point," he uttered through gritted teeth.
Fabian's lips twitched and he took a cautious step back. It was rare to see his liege like this, so very rare and it never ceased to terrify him.