MICHAEL
Horonius hesitated, looking at each of our faces to gauge, I guessed, whether this truly was allowed. When his eyes met mine, I tried to smile, tried to show him that I was sorry for his loss, but when he looked away I was unsure of what had passed between us. The Hound took a seat to the left of me, moving his chair so he would not accidentally brush his body against my own. I scooted away as well, wishing to accommodate him, to give him the space he seemed to need.
“Fascinating,” li’Morl said. He steepled his fingers against his lips and regarded Horonius as if Odin had just announced him to be the final course of our meal. I closed my eyes against the rising tide of hatred for the light elf. How could he be so…so cold and detached in the face of such agony? “I believe I shall retire to my chamber,” he said abruptly. After dabbing the corners of his lips with his napkin, he laid it on top of his plate and stood.