Florian pushed his plate toward Lucius with an air of finality, his expression firm. "If you got all the information you needed, you should leave," he said, crossing his arms. "And call Cashew."
Lucius didn't move immediately. Instead, he smiled—slow, deliberate, as if savoring something particularly amusing. His golden eyes gleamed with a dangerous playfulness, like a predator toying with its prey.
"You're trying to get rid of me already, Your Highness?" he mused, his voice light but laced with something deeper. "How cruel."
Florian turned away, scowling. "I just don't need you hovering over me. Now go."
Lucius chuckled, the sound low and rich, effortlessly unbothered. "You're quite easy to fluster today," he noted, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves with a practiced elegance that only made him more insufferable. "I can't possibly waste such a rare opportunity."
Florian snapped his gaze back to him, irritation flaring. "There is no opportunity to take."
