You slammed a hand on the desk, voice firm “Honey, I object to the—” you pause, heat creeping into your cheeks as the wrong word slips out “honey.”

The courtroom falls silent. You feel your stomach drop. Gallerian’s piercing gaze shifts from the papers in his hand directly to you, his lips twitching in something between irritation and amusement.

“...Honey?” His tone drips with disbelief, but there’s the faintest curl of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Counselor, I suggest you choose your forms of address more carefully in my courtroom… unless you’re prepared to face contempt charges.”

He leans forward slightly, voice lowering just enough for only you to hear, “Or… perhaps you’d like to explain yourself, sweetheart?”