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"Korgath."

He waits for a title I do not offer.

"I had hoped to congratulate you yesterday," he says, raising his voice enough to reach the nearest gathering. "The crowd made it difficult. Everyone wished to discuss your acquisition."

"You have now delivered your congratulations."

"Have I? I should be more specific." His red eye brightens. "House Obsidius has acquired a remarkably spirited human pet."

A few nobles make poor attempts to conceal their amusement.

I turn toward him.

Korgath holds his position. He learned years ago that retreating from me in public costs more than the threat of violence.

"Beatrix Ferryman is bonded to my house by Council decree," I say.

"Yes. We all witnessed how gratefully she received the honor."

His gaze drops to the dust on my boot.

"Humans require adjustment," he continues. "They mistake indulgence for power. A firm hand usually corrects them."

"You possess neither a human nor a household large enough to make your experience relevant."

The red eye narrows.

His remaining lands support a minor spire and fewer guards than I command on one residential level. Mentioning the decline of his house hurts his pride more reliably than mentioning his missing horns.

"Experience can be acquired through observation," he says. "Your pet challenged seven Matrons, ruined their ceremonial gift, and walked away at your side. The court naturally wonders what she will destroy next."

"The court survives its curiosity."

"Will she?"

The question alters the attention around us.

I feel nearby bodies become quieter. No one intervenes. Court etiquette permits insult until the target admits it has become a threat.

Korgath touches one broken horn with the tip of a claw.

"You were thorough when you broke me," he says. "I wonder whether you intend to break her yourself, or whether the great arena-master requires instruction in controlling something smaller."

My hand remains at my side.

The fastest answer would be physical. Korgath expects it. If I strike him here, he becomes the injured lord who asked a crude question and exposed my lack of control. Every witness would carry that version through Ti'lith before his blood dried.

I step closer instead.

Korgath is large by Volvath measure. I still force him to lift his chin.

Korgath plants his feet and braces himself. His cloak ceases moving beneath his fingers.

I lower my voice so he must choose between leaning nearer and admitting he cannot hear.

"What occurs inside House Obsidius is mine to decide."

"The Council may disagree."