Okay, that was an odd note. His brows curved at the bridge of his nose. “Rid of the problem…how?”

Really. He needs a break from the constant bother of little Grisha.

“Once again, I don’t believe it’s your problem to solve.”

Has she ever had little ones bombard her about the Darkling’s every move? It’s not fun. Especially with no sleep.

Ivan settled his straightened stature into his chair. As he did such, his eyes curved away from the instigation. Forcefully, his hand attached around the bread given to him from the top. The air settled slightly, tensions dwindled for a moment.

“Announcing it in a dramatic fashion is an interesting choice.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Ivan huffed, managing a slight edged smile.

His features fought to return to its grumpy expression. “You’re idiocy caused that. Don’t think you should be all too happy.”

“What happened to walking away? Silently.”

“Good morning, sir.” Ivan greeted, finding himself stood at attention.

“Oh.” Ivan started, darting his eyes around with false interest. “Is Fedyor around?”

“What are you on about, Zoya?” He dragged his words out. “I didn’t have any kvas this morning.”

“No?” He continued in his mocking nature. “Were you referring to yourself?”

“Must you be vulgar all the time?”

“Oh, forgive me. You should have straight out said that.”

“No idea what you’re on about.”

“So you chose violence this morning. Noted.” A distant prod at a tease came into play. “Nothing bit me, so to speak. I’m just tired.”

“And yet you still hang around. Must be the handsomeness keeping you about, hm? I know I’m handsome, but saints.”