Azaziel coughed again, pounding his chest as if the wine had betrayed him. "Lucarion," he repeated, still hoarse. "That's… quite the name to be throwing around at dinner time."
Nerine tilted her head, studying him. "You're avoiding the question."
He set the cup down carefully, almost too carefully, and gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Avoiding? No, no. I'm… gathering my thoughts."
"You froze the moment I said his name."
Azaziel leaned back in the chair, exhaling. "Because it's not a name I expected to hear again — at least not from you."
Her brows furrowed. "From me?"
He looked toward the door as if expecting Kael to appear any second. Then he leaned forward slightly, his tone quieter. "Lucarion and Kael — they were allies once. Friends, brothers-in-arms, depending on who you ask. Until…"
He hesitated.
"Until what?" Nerine pressed.
