Keane had been pleasantly fogged out of the events so far. Having finished his story off and gently trailed off to watch the game he was quite relaxed. With the comfortable presence of Anton beside him and Valentina even if she was just sewing he had seen fit to let his attention wander in the vague opium Haze.
The game ended and participants were ordered to disrobe, that earned a vague drunken smile from him.
Someone suggested another round of tea and he soggily nodded to himself that that was definitely an excellent plan.
Anton started winding someone up, this was perfectly normal and to be expected.
Then... Antons body is lifted away from him, the fog starts clearing, "You have a deathwish" "A protector is only good unless you break their shield arm"
The fog clears as if sliced through with a white hot blade. Keane is on his feet, eyes locked on Aurelia. His hand whips out to grab the wrist holding Anton in the air.
"Would you break My shield arm then elder?"
His soft Welsh betrays a more threatening tone than he had intended. Damn but only he knew what Anton had said to raise her Ire such.
His eyes dispay a hint of shock at his own actions. He had not expected this and it was shocking him almost as much as anyone else.