Quinlan's posture shifted.
The playfulness drained out of him, the irritation at being treated like a child folding away into cold focus. His eyes held the vampire's gaze through the helm's visor.
"Lure into the abyss," he repeated. "Are you saying you're responsible for my summoning?"
The ancient features didn't move.
For a long moment, the Archduke simply watched him with those burning red eyes, and the silence stretched.
"Summoning." The word left the desiccated throat like a musing, dry and unhurried. "I suppose one could frame it as such. Though I did not know someone would answer my call. Certainly not this soon."
Quinlan caught it immediately.
The phrasing. Not your summoning. Not summoning you. The vampire spoke as if he'd cast a net into dark water and been surprised by what swam into it.
"You didn't summon me specifically."
"A correct assumption."
"Then what did you do?"
The Archduke's skeletal fingers tapped once against the armrest.
