Xanxus had been asleep until Darrian made his sudden appearance, his Iron Sword resting beside him. He had always made it clear for everyone to not disturb his slumber; there had been multiple instances where a soldier would do so and collateral damage occurred, but he didn't care. It was their fault for not heeding his words, and at least, his own men was able to comprehend his request. Sleeping beside his sword had become a part of his lifestyle when an assassin attempted to kill him in his sleep as a teenager, and he woke from his senses being disturbed in the act.

[b]"Oh, it's only you."[/b] Xanxus said, almost disappointed as he retracted his sword only inches away from Darrian's shoulder and bringing his other hand to his mouth, yawning. Normally, he spent a large portion of his day resting to continually build up his already-high reserve of energy, though he preferred to have something to do other than laze around. It was a key factor as to why he seemed restless and constantly on the move to others; whenever he was awake, he was unable to stay in a single spot or position for more than a minute. During battle, one of his men had compared him to a force of nature: [i]continuously at the heart of the attack, the furious storm never rests,[/i] though he found that poetic viewing of himself to be ridiculous. He leaned back, tossing his sword back to his resting spot and crossed his arms. Xanxus found it somewhat humorous when he saw how uniform Lantus was towards Darrian, whereas he himself was casual and not formal. [b]"You're finally out of the throne room; it's been a while. Congrats. So, did you accidentally have yourself another child?"[/b]

---

As Ambra explained herself, Zaino raised a hand to his forehead, glowering from its aching. [i]It was just a dream, but why did it seem so real?[/i] An image of Xanxus severing his right arm and the screams that followed pierced his thoughts, a stinging sensation arising from his shoulders. He shook his head slightly and felt a bit sick from the sight of all the blood, but recuperated soon after. His violet irises refused to meet with Ambra's eyes, his suspicion of her and the rest of the "survivors" lingering, but still...

[b]"... Thanks."[/b] Zaino mumbled, looking down at his bandaged wounds sheepishly. His view averted to the one where he had been poisoned and squinted in a tense fury, gritting his teeth and balling up his fist at the thought of the betrayal. If anything, he didn't actually look infuriated; upset was a better word to describe his expression. He scooted back and sat upright, briefly cringing at the pain in his torso and bringing a hand atop of the wound that had contained the poison. It was then that he raised his violet eyes and looked back at Ambra, studying her face while she continued to speak. [b]"I guess I owe you... Ambra, was it? Zaino."[/b]