it was all rather silly, if he thought about it too long; going to such great lengths to try and grab at power. a name. some sense of ownership. was life really worth all of that? not to mention, if only half of the men behind these usually foiled plots of usurpations felt the need to pay attention for once in their lives, they'd find no one better suited for his role that kamisato ayato. dedication, wit, strength, all something the young lord and worked his entire life for. built himself up after tragedy, found a place for everyone. thoma is biased, he knows, the man quite literally saved him from obscurity and squalor, but it wasn't the last time such kindness was extended to those that needed it. surely anyone else as the clan head would run it to the ground.
"i do more than just clean your clothes and dust your shelves, my lord. i faced an archon, remember?" a wink, thoma rests a hand on his hip. the same hip that houses his vision, "there isn't much that makes me squeamish," retainer himself has raised his weapon before. taken life. as a last resort of course, but when it came to the safety of his family, he would offer nothing less than his own life.
kneeling in front of the man, he undoes his coat, peels it off, folding it neatly over one of his arms. as he rises to his feet, he makes a huffing sound, "wounded more than the poor sap at the end of your blade this evening?" he makes his way to the desk, setting the coat down and rummaging through the pouch at his hip. a cleaning oil vial is what he's after, dabbing a few droplets to certain stains. a preventative measure; blood came out easier the faster it was treater. a good wash, and he might be able to save this one.
he turns back to ayato, "if you're that upset, i could make you something to eat," a ploy, and he knows it. ayato eating will make thoma happy more than anyone else, but he smiles to seal the deal, "shrimp tempura?"
