[ Stories of this Duke are often spread on the surface, keeping fear of being sent to he fortress fathoms below strong. Who wants to cross someone that's been said to punch a hole through a Lawachurl? Or runs a tight ship that you'd only leave if you sold your soul to him like some god of the Underworld? Rumors... fun as they were, held some weight to those who really didn't need to worry.

That power, a reputation, does wonders.

So, as he looks over to Wriothesley with a more pointed look, it's half-expectant and half-unimpressed. What he's seen frustrates him but Lyney isn't unreasonable.

The Duke talks and Lyney uncrosses his legs, leaning forward to take the snacks provided. Two, they rest in his palm as he settles again. ]

You were young when you last saw them, then. Not an icy old man.

[ ...He's getting there. ]

They're still your siblings. [ His tone grows softer, eyes shutting for a moment in reflection. ] Years, countries, universes – it doesn't change what is.