There is little he can do but obey, as if he were ever capable of more than obeying. He more than deserves that bite, though he probably deserves worse. He’d feared that he’d missed something important, that this lapse in memory was going to land him in deeper trouble. What if he’d meant to be following another servant? Or a master? Or even engaging with one? He knows how… intense he can get….
He doesn’t speak, simply nods his head and follows. His eyes keenly aware of the posture with which Kayneth carries himself through these halls back to his study. It’s the one room that Diamuid is familiar with considering how often Kayneth does his best to keep him away.
Once inside of the study he’s closing the door just as Kayneth commands him to but he doesn’t say this. Instead he nods his head, letting the door click closed before moving to stand before his desk. Then, moves down on one knee so as to show respect for his master while they discuss. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s missed something important but he wouldn’t know how to convince Kayneth of that or if it’d even be worth convincing.
“ Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀ. Iᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. “
Paranoia guides his hand. A white digit presses to the dark glossy wood of the desk, an invisible design is traced– before a silvery light flares, briefly showing the drawn sigil. Without warning something bubbles out from between the many rows of books lining the wall behind him. Thin tiny rivers of pale metallic like liquid pour down onto the floor, creating silvery thick puddles.
Kayneth takes his seat in the heavy chair with it’s tall raised back– an imposing piece of furniture, especially so when the pair of sharp icy blue eyes begin to stare from it, gazing at the bowed head of the green Lancer with a discerning eye. Kayneth need not spare a glance as the mindless ‘pet’ of his proud Volumen Hydrargyrum begins to move on it’s own accord– a flash of light reflects over it’s mirror like surface as it roams the floor, passing around Lancer’s knelt form before it collides against the closed doors of the room– sliding up and promptly flattening against the squared space. Another smaller bit of mercury glides along the floor, roaming up a wall before it seals itself over the large center window– flickering with another flash of light before it stills there– sealing the glass.
Fingers weave together before he stretches his palms outward, knuckles popping as he sinks back in his chair. His eyes peer over, and as much as he enjoys looking down at others– he can’t help but scrunch his nose.
“ Stand up.
I’d rather meet you eye to eye to ensure you’re listening this time.
I refuse to waste my breath again Lancer. Now, what exactly do you not understand ?
Is the term recon not one you’re familiar with?
The act of silent observation– unnoticed and most importantly– unheard.
Meaning– to refrain from engaging with the enemy.
I want your ears and eyes– not your spear. “
And though everything seems normal. Expected. As usual. From the coldness of Kayneth voice, to the ever meticulous nature of his caution — There is something off.
Something is very wrong.
But Kayneth is still speaking, oblivious– or perhaps immune to the feeling weighing upon Diarmuid’s back.
“ The intricacies of my plan are of no importance to you. Simply do as you are told– and do not question me and this grail war will be over with the Archibald family the rightful victor. “