Ah-ah. Finishing your reports is essential to upholding the shining image of Grandmaster. A dependable leader ought to defeat all matters at hand, even if he finds them arduous.
( The fae retreats a step, the chains draping his cloak rattling in protest. -
You flatter me so.
( The hand retreats with a final ruffle of the other’s hair, a serene smile spreading across his lips. )
But if that is to be, I make for a terrible hexer—unable to coax such simple words from your lips.
- Charming as the Grandmaster’s smiles and saccharine words may be, the fae’s will remains steady. )
We wouldn’t want to sully your own enchanting image, now would we?
