Zarius stepped fully into the weak, flickering glow of the altar candles, rubbing the back of his neck with a broad, calloused hand. He let out a long, heavy yawn, his massive shoulders rising and falling under his fur cloak in a lazy, exaggerated stretch.
"Do you mind?" Zarius grumbled, his voice rough and thick with a well-acted grogginess. "Some of us were actually trying to sleep back there."
The silver-haired boy flinched, his defensive posture instantly cracking into utter embarrassment. A sharp, burning red flush crept rapidly up his pale neck, staining his cheeks under the warm candlelight. He hastily wiped his eyes with the wide silk cuffs of his sleeves, trying and failing to erase the obvious tracks of his tears, though the frantic motion only made his skin look more irritated. He looked Zarius over, from his broad shoulders to his clothes. Nothing about him resembled a temple guard.
