Cyran stared at Arik for several seconds.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
Mezos's expression did not change, but Cassian lifted one eyebrow above the rim of his coffee cup.
Arik leaned back.
"Something amusing?"
"Not particularly."
Cyran rubbed one hand over his jaw, exhaustion finally beginning to show through the polish he had maintained since being brought into the room.
"It is simply impressive how efficiently you prove my argument whenever you are irritated."
Arik's gold eyes cooled.
"Careful."
"There." Cyran pointed toward him. "Exactly that."
Mezos shifted slightly in his chair.
Cyran noticed and lowered his hand.
"I am not insulting him."
"You have a questionable understanding of that concept," Mezos said.
Cyran returned his attention to Arik.
