Lucavion looked at the Duke, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he said nothing, merely watching him with that same lazy confidence that had been irritating from the very beginning.
Then—
"If I were to speak to you about my reasons," he murmured, almost to himself, "you would look at me like I'm crazy."
Thaddeus narrowed his eyes.
Lucavion exhaled lightly, shaking his head.
"Yes. You would look at me just like that."
The Duke was glaring at him. His patience, already thin, had been steadily eroding throughout this entire conversation.
What the hell is this guy?
He says I'd look at him like he's crazy—am I not already doing exactly that?
What logic is this?
Thaddeus' jaw tightened. He was a man who dealt in strategy, in clear cause-and-effect reasoning. Politics, battle, governance—all of it relied on understanding the motives of those around you.
