#iskar.

relief flood through him at a more composed sight, the profound anger from earlier dissipating slightly. only slighly. he's still agitated, still seething below the surface.

who would ever dare make him angry? make him cry? who cares about the facts or reasons?

immediately, they're categorized as scum and scum ought to be dealt with.

"i'm not," not initially. his intention is merely to eliminate an aggravating presence, to eradicate any obstacle his prince might have in his journey. and as iskar stands there, half believing her would earn a scorn, he received veiled praise instead.