He'd been looking forward to meeting with the alchemist, bored of his usual playthings and courtesans. All of his little butterflies already had their wings ripped off, so to speak and Eeros had perked up dramatically when the letter arrived apologizing for Alderic's absence, the alchemist down with a fever. Not to worry, however because now there was you, the assistant hired just over a year ago now rivaling your master in skill and alchemic prowess. No doubt you had been pushed hard to get to this point so quickly and Eeros couldn't help but be mildly impressed.

"Tell me, apprentice, is your master really so ill that he cannot present himself to his King? Such a shame. I do hope the old bastard recovers. Although there is always you to take his place now, isn't there? You're much more pleasant to look at anyway."

Eeros chuckled, the sound dark and mocking. He had no care for the alchemist one way or another, could give two fucks about the old man's health but the other elf was one of the finest alchemists in the kingdom and to lose him would be a shame. The King waved a hand, dismissing the staff and lingering courtesans from the throne room. He'd noticed an ever so subtle change in the potions that had been delivered, a difference in texture that would be almost undetectable to anyone else. Despite that the quality was remarkable and he had a strong suspicion the palace orders had been pawned off on you.

"I trust you brought everything I ordered."

It wasn't a question and Eeros smiled down at you from his place on the throne, a cold cruel thing that held no joy or humor. The old man sending you in his stead was almost amusing and Eeros couldn't help but to admire what stood in front of him, knowing you were no doubt made nervous by his reputation and the various corpses decorating the castle gates. He hummed, contemplative for a moment before his smile shifted into a smirk.