"My my, Arrow Straight to the point. Very well then, business before pleasure, I can respect that: a man who can get things done in proper order." Either praise or indignant insult, perhaps a bit of both intermixed, like a good cocktail of two parts insult to one part praise. "As you already seem to know who I am, I need no introductions, nor did I plan on giving one in earnest. As to your debt, I need no groveling from you old boy, remember few vampires as Old as I act as altruists. I will be frank with you and state that you are an essential part of my plans dear child for a unified vampire nation. That being said, since you are not one of my bloodline, I honor your own free will and would ask that you hear me out before making rash judgments against me. After all, over a cup of tea, the most bitter of enemies may become good friends." Bedivere, risking the monologue as always with his excessive rhetoric and long-winded speeches.

The pot of tea arrived with two cups, and two fruitcakes, blood in both as Ted personally poured out the first two cups out of the silver pot to reveal a thick red fluid against a silver strainer hanging over the cups. Blood soaked leaves fell through the spout, properly brewed vampire tea with two sugars placed in each cup. They were vampires after all, not diabetics and as such sweets and luxuries such as twilight tea were a sign of upper-species upper-class superiority was it not? Far better than wasting a night on human liquors scrounging for drunks looking for a romance.

"Theodore, Let us call it an evening shall we? Take the rest of the night off. I have business matters to discuss." He'd imagine what Mathew Stone would kill to be in Mithias' seat. The man after all did threaten to incite international war to meet with him. Perhaps he would take up on an offer and become a vampire to gain entrance to the Inn without being killed by the mob of vampires which trickled away into the night before Theodore bid Bedivere evening and left. It was now just the two of them as red eyes gazed over Mithias sitting pretty.

Taking the first sip and a tiny sliver of cake so casually to offset the clear establishment of clearing the establishment. "Ah, Darjeeling Sanguine, it is quite a shame that Syth'kas did not live long enough to see the colonization of India by us. His fruitcakes needed something to offset their delectable sweet tang." Bedivere seemed to reminiscence of his acquaintance for a moment before cleaning his lips with a pocket square. "Now that we three are alone, we may discuss the matters of Britain. My sources tell me you are of European decent, German if I read properly on the dossier I skimmed through before getting here, a Crusader even. So tell me, where do your loyalties lie Sir Varomere? The news brings me word that you had resigned your position ever since your brush with death, so if I dare ask, are you afraid of your own death?"

A pause.

"Or are you like I more afraid that one's immortal life becomes meaningless to the point of becoming forgotten and a relic of times past? Is that not right Merlin? He does show potential does he not? I had already ask the brothers and they had no answer, no King either, but we all await for his return to the Isles so that the Queen may see the Glory of Heaven on Earth. You are still loyal are you not Merlin? Or has your years imprisoned by her beauty made you grow bitter?" A sign of madness as Bedivere seemed to interrogate a tree, rather than Mithias speaking of himself and of a "Merlin."